


The Strength of the Soul

by indiegarona



Series: The Cost of the Crown [2]
Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiegarona/pseuds/indiegarona
Summary: [*Sequel to The Cost of the Crown*] Having restored peace and security to her kingdom, Albion's Hero Queen Evelyn must now face dark forces from a distant land that threaten the integrity of all she has fought to restore. It is a race against time as the darkness turns allies against themselves, putting the lives of her people, friends and loved ones at stake.





	1. Desert Letter

_**This is a sequel.** _ _If you have not read_ _The Cost of the Crown_ _, please do not read this story yet! This is a continuation of the journey that began in the first installment, and spoilers aside, this will not be as easy to follow without reading in order. To those who have read and followed through the first story to this point, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your continued support!_

* * *

Evelyn stood alone in her washroom gazing into the mirror, silently questioning all of the choices she had made since becoming Albion's Queen. She sighed softly as she pulled a clean dressing gown over her head, the crisp white cotton cool against her skin as it slid down into place.

There was one burning question that tormented her, and no matter how many times she justified her past decisions to herself, the question still remained, like a splinter in her mind.

"Evie," Ben called from the other side of the door, his voice still raspy. She'd run off from bed in such a hurry that he had awakened with a start to find her missing. "What's the matter, love?"

Her voice shook as she reached into the basin. "I need just a minute, Ben." Her hands dipped below the water's surface and clutched her worn dressing gown. As she squeezed it, crimson clouds bloomed throughout the crystal clear water, the deep red a stark contrast to the pure white linen. She sniffled, noticing how the air carried with it the all too familiar scent of copper. Biting down on her lip to suppress a cry of despair, she wrung out the blood-tinged water.

Ben tapped gently on the other side of the door. "Don't shut me out, sweetheart. Please, just let me in."

She draped the damp, stained garment over the side of the bath tub and wiped a few renegade tears from her eyes. This must have been happening for a reason, and she believed she knew why. It was the wolves of Mistpeak.

As a newly awakened Hero, she had encountered them in packs on her way to Brightwall. Her compassion for animals knew no prejudice, so when they attacked her, she stood there…and _let_ them. She stood there, hoping they would see that she meant them no harm, that she _loved_ them. But they kept biting. And she _killed_ them all…cursing them for forcing her hand. The pain of killing, or the pain of being killed…which was truly worse? She remembered how she had wept all the way to town…from the pain of the wounds, yes, but mostly because she had killed something that she loved.

She lowered herself onto the edge of the tub and slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her head in her hands. Six moons had now come and gone, each one a reminder of her failures—both past and present.

 _Gods…will I never look upon the face of my child?_ She lost herself in thought. Had she driven her dream of creating a family into extinction as she had the black wolves of Mistpeak?

After several moments of his knocks going unanswered, Ben let himself in. He glanced quickly at the basin, moved to kneel in front of Evelyn, and sighed. She didn't have to say a word. He already knew. This was not the first time he had witnessed her disappointment, but it was likely the worst he'd seen her yet.

He gently tipped her chin up and took her hands into his as he looked into her eyes empathetically. "Evie…"

"It's not happening, Ben," she sobbed, her face reddening as the painful truth of her words pierced her heart. "And I just can't stop thinking…that it's all my—"

" _No_ ," he vehemently objected. "I don't want to hear you speak like that, love."

" _Six_ moons…" She gulped deeply. "And it isn't as if we've ever relented in our efforts." Her voice began to crack as she asked him, "What if I am no longer able?"

Her gaze fell blank as her mind flooded with frenzied thoughts of the future. What would it mean for her—for her _marriage_ —if she could not conceive again? She could not bear the feeling of letting Ben down and denying him the family which she knew he so longed for. What would this mean for _Albion_ if their Hero Queen could not produce an heir? She dreaded the thought of being forced to pass her burdens on to Logan.

She shook gently as she tried to contain her weeping, and Ben reached up and cradled her face in his hands, his brow furrowing. "It'll happen for us, Evie. I know it in my heart." His voice was warm and encouraging, causing a feeling of peace to wash over her as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

She wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her into his comforting embrace. She hoped to the Light that he was right, but her fears and doubts became harder to ignore with each passing month. She did not want to cause her husband any more pain, so she took a deep breath and pushed the negative thoughts to the back of her mind, trying not to pay them any further regard. She smiled tenderly at him, mustering up as convincing a tone as she could, both for herself and him. "I know."

He kissed the side of her face and spoke softly against her ear, "Why don't we get out of here?" He looked into her eyes, raising his brows as his lips turned up. "We could go to Aurora. Just the two of us. It'd be like old times."

The suggestion was so very tempting. Evelyn loved the desert climate with its dry warmth during the day and its crisp, cool evenings. She missed the feeling of sand under her feet. Light help her, she even missed how the sand tickled between her toes. She turned her head, glancing out the window. Winter had blanketed the region with bitter cold, banishing her favorite flowers and washing away all color until everything appeared gray and lifeless.

She pressed her lips to his and drew back with a smile as his thumbs gently stroked her cheeks, taking with them the remnants of her tears.

"I love you, Ben." She sniffled as she closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his.

"I'll take that as a _yes_ ," he chuckled.

Just as he began leaning in for another kiss, a loud knock at their chamber doors jolted them both. He placed his hands on her knees and stood, leaving one last kiss on her forehead before turning away. "I'll see to that, sweetheart. Take your time getting ready."

Ben closed the washroom door behind him and hurried over to answer the frenzied knocking. He opened the door and saw Marina, quite out of breath.

"Please excuse the abrupt intrusion, Ben, but I really must speak with Evelyn." Her eyes darted around him, searching frantically. "Where is she?"

He ushered her outside the room and quietly closed the door behind them. He looked back at Marina with genuine concern and spoke in a low voice so as not to alarm his wife. "I'm afraid she's still dressing, Marina. She woke up feeling a bit out of sorts today. Is there anything _I_ could do?"

She wrung her hands together and nervously bit down on her lip before speaking again. "It's Jack. I went to visit my brother early this morning, as I always do, and I found him very ill. The conditions down in confinement during the winter are _deplorable_ and are no doubt the cause." She paused with a faint whimper. "Please, he needs medical attention."

Ben's expression grew severe. "How bad is it?"

"He's white as a sheet, covered in sweat, shivering convulsively…" She pressed her lips together and gulped. "…and completely unresponsive. I'm afraid the fever may _kill_ him if he's left in that dreadful place. _Please…_ help him."

He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Alright. I need you to find Logan and send him to me right away, then go to the prison with some warm blankets and as many restorative potions as you can carry. Tell the guard on duty to permit you into Jack's cell on _my orders_ and do what you can for him until I arrive."

Marina quickly thanked the Prince-Consort before turning on her heel and rushing off to find Logan. She did not have the time to stand and argue, as she had many times before, to try and bring some attention to the inhumane conditions of the dungeons.

Ben ran a hand through his hair and drew in a deep breath through his nose as he turned back to the bedchamber door. Before he could so much as turn the knob, Jasper approached, calling out from behind him.

"Your Grace!"

Ben turned back around with a lopsided grin. In the months since marrying the Queen, he still had yet to fully embrace his new title. It felt awkward to be referred to as royalty when he was neither highborn nor raised as a noble. As a child, he had been treated like a hooligan, and throughout most of his life he'd only ever known himself to be a scoundrel, scallywag, and soldier. "What are the odds you'll start referring to me simply as 'Ben'?"

"I'm afraid they're not very good, Your Grace," Jasper chuckled. It was rare for him to ever break proper protocol and informally address anyone of a higher station.

"How about Benjamin? That sounds respectable enough, right?" Ben queried in his most persuasive tone.

"Very well, _Prince_ Benjamin." The elderly man smiled and pulled a letter from his pocket. "This arrived with today's post and is marked urgent. Shall I leave it in the study for Queen Evelyn?"

Ben retrieved the letter from the other man. "Ah…no, I'd better take this one. I'm determined to give my wife at least one stress-free day."

Jasper smiled and bowed his head. "As you wish, Sir. And if you don't mind me asking, how is _that_ going so far?"

Ben smiled confidently as he patted the other man on the shoulder. "Nothing I can't handle, mate. But say, while I have you here, do you suppose I could trouble you to bring her some of that spiced tea that she loves? Might calm her nerves before her brother arrives to rattle them up again."

"Of course, Sir. I will return shortly." Jasper bowed his head and turned to make his way to the kitchens.

* * *

Evelyn had finished dressing and began loosely pulling her hair back as she stood before her full-length mirror. Ben came back in with a letter in his hand and she turned to him, raising a brow. "What was that all about? Who was at the door?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her softly. "Do you trust me to take care of it?"

She smiled up at him as she ran her thumb across his bottom lip. Distracting as that delectable lip was, she managed to tear her eyes from it and answer, "I trust you with my life and that of the kingdom, Ben, but I am perfectly fine to handle whatever this is. I just had a moment of weakness earlier."

"You need to allow yourself those moments, love," he said soothingly as he gazed down at her. "And in such times, remember there's more to your husband than just devastatingly good looks and unrivaled prowess in the bedchambers." He paused, his lips curling up into a devious smirk. "You know you don't have to be the sole Hero anymore. You can throw some of the burdens my way. I can handle it."

She shook her head, unable to suppress a budding grin. "I'm _well_ aware of your many talents, darling, but I'd still like to know what's going on."

He let out a sigh and handed her the already-opened letter, closing his hands over hers before she could unfold it. "Before you get into this, I should tell you that Logan is dropping by...and he may be a bit _less-than-merry_ this morning."

She looked up at him, her brow pinching together in confusion.

"Marina came by to let us know that Jack has fallen ill in the prison. From what she told me, his condition seems quite severe, so I made the call to bring him in for medical attention. The only _problem_ is—"

" _Logan_ ," she interjected, looking up at her husband pleadingly. "I know what you must think of my brother and his harsh stance on Jack's imprisonment. He has great difficulty when it comes to letting an outsider in…especially one who's served an enemy." She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing in a breath. "I _am_ in agreement with you, though. We cannot let Jack suffer or die down there. He did, after all, save us once…" She grew more rigid as a painful memory surfaced. "…And without hesitation, he rushed to my aid when _I_ had fallen."

Ben stroked the side of her face gently. "I know, love…and I believe now would be the time to show him the same consideration."

She nodded in agreement, and Ben turned to answer the knocking at the door.

Jasper entered with a tray of tea, and Evie's nerves were quickly calmed by the soothing scent of cinnamon and ginger as he walked by.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," he said cheerfully, placing the tray on a nearby table and pouring her a cup.

"Jasper," she sighed in relief as he passed her some tea. "This is just what I needed. _Thank you_." Holding the cup under her nose with both hands, she closed her eyes and breathed in the warm vapors before taking a sip.

Jasper chuckled and looked over at Ben, who winked promptly back at him. He made his way to the door, turning back to bow before leaving. "I shall leave you to your business now. Good day to you both."

As Jasper made his way out, Logan stormed in with an unmistakable scowl. Evelyn braced herself, drawing in a deep breath as she placed her tea back down. Ben came to stand beside her as her brother marched up to them both.

"What in the _Void_ has possessed you, Benjamin?" He placed his hands on his hips as he glared angrily at his brother-in-law. "Sending Marina back to the jails with orders to enter a prisoner's cell…Have you lost your _mind_?"

Logan's voice was positively shaking with fury. Evelyn brought her hands over her stomach as the sound of his rage served to quickly stir up her anxiety.

Ben raised his hand in the air, taking control of the conversation before things could escalate any further. "Easy, mate. We're talking about your lady's _brother_. You _do_ love her, right?"

Logan's eyes narrowed with indignation. It was his belief that if someone was neither foolish nor absent-minded, they would not need to be told such things. He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. "That goes without saying. However—"

" _However_?" Ben cut in, shaking his head while pointing back at the other man. "Brother, if you love that woman—regardless of whether or not you've had the balls to _say_ the words yet—she's your family. Ergo, you need to give a shit about _her_ family. It's that simple."

Logan took a step closer to Ben, his voice now reduced to a low growl. "It is far from simple when that man is a mercenary. _A traitor_. He was a part of the same gang that held Marina against her will…and I need not remind anyone of what they did to Evelyn. If it were up to me, that man would not be allowed anywhere near either of them ever again."

Evelyn decided that she had to step in. These two strong-willed men could argue all day if she didn't. "It isn't up to you, Logan," she interjected. "I'm in agreement with Ben." Her gaze shifted downward. Her brother's piercing glare was as painful to look into as the burning sun. "I hereby order the prisoner's release and want him brought to an empty bedchamber in the servant's quarters, where he will remain under constant guard to receive proper treatment."

Logan placed his hands on her shoulders and his eyes widened in disbelief as he tried to shake some sense into her. "Evelyn, _think_ about this. Our family has been torn apart from within the castle walls before. History could repeat itself if we are not _mindful_."

"I'm not wrong about Jack." She shook her head. "You weren't there that night."

His eyes slashed between Evelyn and Ben, and he sighed in exasperation. "Clearly there is nothing that I can say to change either of your minds on this matter. So why call for me when my opinion is of no value?"

"I'll be needing your help to retrieve the lad," Ben replied.

Logan's eyes narrowed. "I hope for all of our sakes that neither of you are wrong." He strode away in a huff, slammed the door behind him, and Evie turned to Ben.

"He just needs time," she said softly, pausing to bite her lip in hesitation. "Please don't fault him for being this way. Our parents…died…because of treachery from within the castle. They were both murdered." She sighed, looking up at him regretfully.

"Oh, Evie..." He paused, cupping her face gently with one hand. "I don't fault Logan. But why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It isn't something Logan and I speak of, and the only other living soul who knows the truth is Jasper, but he would never bring up such a painful memory. It was covered up to protect us and to prevent panic among the people. I'm sorry I never told you, I just…" She paused, fumbling for words as the emotion of recalling such horrific events swiftly brought about a lump in her throat.

"No apologies, love. I understand." He leaned in and kissed her softly. "Thank you for trusting me with it now. We don't need to speak of it ever again."

She nodded against him silently. In light of what was currently going on with Jack and her brother, she thought it would be best to empty the travel bag that she had started to pack, and put their plans on hold for the time being. With a sigh of disappointment, she walked over to the bag on the bed and started reaching inside.

"You should read that message before you unpack, sweetheart." He pointed to the letter in her front pocket. "I believe we'll still be desert-bound after all. I reckon after you've finished reading, you'll want to leave soon, so I should be heading down to the jails to tend to this other situation now." He came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her on the side of her neck. "I'll be back as soon as I can, love."

After Ben had gone, Evelyn turned and sat on the edge of the bed to read the letter he'd previously handed to her. She pulled it from her pocket and inspected its markings. It had a very strange seal, unlike any she'd seen before. The pearlescent white wax had been stamped with a crescent moon symbol and the parchment looked quite weathered on the outside. She opened the letter, immediately noticing the uneven desperate scrawl inside.

_To Her Majesty, Queen Evelyn:_

_I am taking a great risk in writing this, but I fear I have no other option. I work in the palace of Samarkand, very closely with the King. I had to sneak away to write this letter, and I pray to the Light that it reaches you safely. There is little time to go into great detail, but you must know that Prince Omari is in grave danger._

_I was formerly the healer of a small village, before King Bakari had me brought before him. He claimed me and demanded that I keep his brother alive, ordering me not to ease his pain or suffering in any way. I have kept the Prince alive as long as I can, but the dark forces surrounding him weaken him more and more by the day. He no longer speaks, but the last thing he was able to say to me was your name._

_I hope I am not misguided in seeking your assistance. Going against the King could cost me my life, and Prince Omari his. Finding us will be easy. Getting out will not. Take great caution. Bakari is far more dangerous than you know._

_-Lailah_

* * *

"Lailah!" King Bakari hollered, the overwhelming power and depth of his voice rocking throughout the royal palace of Samarkand. He stood in the center of his chambers, a circular room which was lavishly decorated with deep red fabrics and gold embellishments.

"LAILAH!" He threw his hands on his hips and his eyes widened as he called out with even greater volume. "If I must ask a third time, you may choose a _finger_ to sacrifice to the edge of my blade when you get here!"

The King scowled as he began to suck in the air to fuel his next rumbling call, and a young woman burst through the doorway, clenching the bottom of her long white dress in her hands as she ran inside.

He lifted his head as she neared him, looking down the bridge of his nose at her with a glare of intimidation. She was not of the land; that much was visible in her radiant alabaster skin and pearlescent, straight white hair that cascaded down her back like silk.

"Your Majesty," she said between heaving breaths, taking a knee before the tyrant King and bowing her head deeply. "How may I serve you?"

A sinister smirk crossed his mouth as he tilted his head to see down the top of her dress from a better angle. The curves of her body were certainly pleasing to him, and perhaps once he was finished using her for her skills in healing, he would test her skills in giving pleasure. While he did keep a harem full of concubines for just that purpose, Lailah appeared so light and pure to him that he could not help but lust to defile her.

As he took a step toward the kneeling woman, the large gold medallions which hung from his belts and neck chains jingled. The King enjoyed hearing the sound of his wealth with each subtle movement he made. He crossed his arms and loomed over her, pausing to savor the fear emanating from her bent body.

"What is the status of my brother?" he asked harshly, his voice dripping with disdain as he spoke of the Prince.

She began speaking quietly with her gaze still fixed on the ground. "Prince Omari has—"

"Look at me when you speak!" he sharply ordered her.

He stood so tall above her, she had to let her head fall all the way back to see his face, her azure eyes widening with worry. "Your brother lives, Your Majesty…but my remedies are beginning to have a decreased effect."

He smirked and turned away from her, walking to his desk to retrieve his scepter. Unlike most of his other embellishments, it was not golden or extravagant. The blackened metallic rod was about an arm's length, and the King had always kept it close.

"That is not my concern," he growled, turning back to face her. His eyes swirled with darkness as he slowly approached her, pointing his scepter in her direction. "I am no fool, Lailah. Are you so feebleminded to think that I would not find out about you disobeying my orders?"

The woman involuntarily jerked forward, her body hunching over as she grabbed her chest with both hands. "I…" She gasped for air as shock washed over her face.

"You tried to relieve his pain, _didn't you_? Even when I specifically ordered you…" His grip on the scepter tightened and he touched her temple with the end of it. " _NOT TO_."

She winced as her mouth opened wide to let out an agonizing cry. The pain coursing through her head was immeasurable as the instrument made contact with her skin. "I…I'm sorry! It will n-never happen again," she cried under great strain. Pressure built between her temples and spread around her throat, and she began to panic as an unseen force pulled her body forward.

King Bakari retracted his scepter, tucking it under one arm. He squatted down to roughly grab her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him as his voice grew dark and ominous. "No. It will _not_ happen, of that I am quite certain." He drew her face dangerously close to his own as he added, "You _will_ know your place from now on." He released his hold on her with a shove and stood back up. "To ensure your understanding, I'd like to show you one last thing."

He called for his guards and two of them entered, dragging between them one of the King's concubines in wrist shackles. Bakari retrieved the woman by the hair and ordered the guards to leave. Lailah could only watch in horror, the mere sight of the defenseless, abused young woman causing her to look away.

"If you do not watch, I will bring another…and another…until you _do_ ," he bellowed. His harem was certainly full of available victims, though he much preferred disposing of them _after_ they'd serviced him to his full satisfaction.

The healer looked back at him and the woman he dangled from his arm like a toy.

"Good." He grinned as he removed the woman's shackles. "Now, these will not be necessary."

The concubine shook with trepidation, pushing her disheveled hair out of her face and rubbing her sore wrists. Bakari stepped toward her and stroked the side of her face with one hand while unsheathing a dagger from his belt with the other. "Take it." He took a step back and held the dagger by the blade, passing the handle to the woman. With a look of great confusion and fear, she retrieved the weapon from her King and held it loosely in her quivering grip.

He let out a malevolent laugh and pointed his scepter at the concubine, quickly glancing at Lailah to make sure that she watched. "How does it feel for a healer to watch someone die, I wonder?" A fine line of thick black mist swirled out from the tip of the staff as he channeled a dark energy and directed it at his victim. "Knowing that you can do nothing for these fatal wounds…"

Suddenly, the young woman turned the dagger on herself, her arm shaking violently as she raised the blade to her neck. Her face fixed with pure horror, but she was unable to speak.

"Your resistance is pointless, but struggle as you will," he said through a wide grin. "It makes for a better show."

Lailah suppressed the urge to cry out, covering her mouth as it fell agape at the sight before her. The woman's arm relaxed along with her expression. She slowly placed the edge of the dagger over the pulsing flesh just beneath her jaw and calmly drove the blade into her neck. It only took a moment for her to bleed out, her small frame collapsing onto the floor with a disturbing thud.

The King walked over to the mess and retrieved his dagger, wiping the blood on the dead woman's skirts before sheathing it back on his belt. "Have I made myself clear, Lailah?"

The healer knelt in shock, her eyes glazing over as she looked up at him. She released her hand from her mouth and let out the breath she'd held while watching the evil act unfold. Never before had she felt so helpless. This was not the first time she had witnessed death, but this act of cruelty shook her to her very core.

"You will answer me or I will be forced to repeat this demonstration on another," he said as he approached her.

The mere thought of observing such horrors again sent her from a state of shock to pure fear. She looked up quickly, tears now spilling down her reddened cheeks. "Please…no more. I understand, Your Majesty."

A smirk of satisfaction crossed his lips and he pointed to the door. "Good, now get out of my sight."

She stood back up onto wobbly legs, bowing as best she could before turning to leave.

"And send a few servants to clean up this mess on my floor!" he shouted before she could reach the door.

"Yes, Sire," she softly replied, unable to turn back around. The image of the lifeless young woman was still burned into her mind, and she could not bear to look again. She had to do something now that she knew the full extent of the King's corruption, even if it would cost her her life to seek help.

* * *

 **A/N: I'd like to first thank everyone that has read "The Cost of the Crown" and followed Ben and Evie through to this story. I appreciate all of your patience while I took the time to develop another deep and meaningful plot, and I can't wait to reveal more of this new epic adventure with each passing chapter. Your** **reviews** **are** **priceless** **to me, especially during the development of a story, so please take a moment to leave some feedback below. Don't stop there if you enjoyed this story.. Favorite and follow to show your support!**

**Special thanks to Zil-Foxxil for the beautiful cover art! I'd also like to those that have beta read my work thus far: Era-Age & Bishou no Marina.**


	2. The Tyrant

_The Royal Palace of Samarkand, little more than 6 months ago…_

Fueled by a completely newfound rage and resentment for his brother, Omari burst through the heavy double doors to the King's chamber. He was sickened by the underhanded and deplorable actions that were taken in an attempt to coerce the Queen into marrying him against her true will. King Bakari's sinister plot had caused a great deal of unnecessary bloodshed and death, and all for what? _Power?_ What good was power when no one was left alive under your rule?

"Omari!" the King shouted as he jolted up, surprised by the bold intrusion. He stood tall atop the raised platform that held his luxurious bed. Two concubines in various stages of undress stood on either side of him, both of their faces fixed with fright as the tyrant's voice shook anything that hadn't been bolted down in place. "How _dare_ you barge in with such disrespect! Where is your mind, boy? Has Albion claimed your paltry little brain?"

The Prince's eyes burned with fury and then disgust as he quickly regarded the two very young women trembling at his brother's sides. _More innocent lives being tainted…destroyed._ "I require a word, Bakari… _and it cannot wait_ ," he seethed.

"You enter my chambers uninvited, fail to address me properly, and then have the ignorance to _require_ something from me?" The King paused to place his arms behind the scantily clad women, firmly smacking each one simultaneously on the backside to dismiss them. This insult needed to be dealt with promptly…and privately.

Omari stepped forward as the concubines scurried out of the room as fast as their bare feet would take them. He stopped a few paces short of the platform where his brother stood towering above him. Bakari was without a doubt a very intimidatingly large, muscular man, usually rising over two heads above the average person. The Prince looked up, and his fists tightened as he summoned every ounce of restraint within him to try and elicit some answers before acting. "Your scheming has hurt a great many people…" His eyes narrowed. " _Good_ people."

Bakari looked at Omari with pure disgust. "I see Albion has also claimed your balls, _Princess_."

The King stomped down the platform steps and stood before his brother, looking down at him with an intensifying scowl, testing his resolve. When his intimidating glare failed to produce the desired result, he raised a hand and swiftly clapped the back of it across Omari's face. The force of his strike nearly whipped the other man around full circle. Bakari waited for Omari to look back up, ensuring he had his attention before delivering his threat. "If you were not my own flesh and blood, you would be paying for your actions with your _life_."

Omari resisted the urge to raise a hand to the stinging burn emanating from his reddening cheek. Instead, he turned his focus right back up to the man who struck him. Crimson droplets painted his skin from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, and his face fixed with pure revulsion as he spit blood at his brother's feet. "You speak as if you actually care about something more than yourself."

Bakari grabbed the back of Omari's head, using the fistful of dark hair in his grasp as leverage to yank his head back, forcing him to look up. "Foolish ingrate!" The King's clenched fist trembled with his wrath, shaking his brother's head as he continued to speak through clenched teeth. "So easily you have forgotten how I once took you under my protection. Fled this place as our father was being _assassinated!_ Do you think _you_ could have done better?"

The enraged King abruptly released his grasp, shoving the Prince back harshly to the ground with a loud thud. He pounded a fist violently against his own chest, the volume of his voice escalating along with his fury. "I did what had to be done! I did not whine like a child. It was only my seventeenth summer, but _I_ took the throne like a man." He paused to point a finger in Omari's face. "Ten years later, at the same age, _you_ enjoyed a life of privilege because of what I had fought for and built."

Omari shook his head. "That is _not_ —"

The King's voice ramped back up to an earth-shaking volume. "I'm not finished!"

Bakari stormed over to his desk. He opened a long, black wooden box and reached inside to pick up his scepter. Turning to face his brother, he displayed the weapon lengthwise across both of his up-turned hands. "To keep you safe…to keep this country in _order_ …and to protect the palace, I did what was necessary." He closed in on his brother and his eyes began to change, the whites of them being obscured by swirling darkness. "I'd like to show you something. Something special that I acquired from my… _friends_ in Albion, years ago."

Omari stiffened in horror. _Eyes…the window to the soul_.

The Prince flinched away his thoughts. "I am not interested," he hissed. "You are not the same man who took back the throne all those years ago. _Your_ idea of order is striking fear into the hearts of the people to drive them into submission. You tricked me—your own flesh and blood—into going to Albion to carry out your shameful deeds!" Omari's eyes slashed up to meet the King's dark glare, and in a firm, authoritative tone, he concluded, "The brother I once knew is dead and gone. All I see now is…a _tyrant_."

Shocked by his brother's words, Bakari's hand tightened around the scepter, so firmly that his knuckles turned white. For a moment, there was a dead silence between the two as they locked eyes, the Prince's full of anger, and the King's dreadfully empty. Then, with an unbridled frenzy that Omari had never before seen, Bakari charged at him, landing on top of him in a flash. Sparing Omari no time to react, Bakari drove his fist down forcefully into his face, leaving the Prince's nose pulverized.

"You wish me _dead_ , do you?" he bellowed down as he straddled the much smaller frame of his younger brother. He did not care that Omari struggled beneath him, and he ignored the sound of him choking on his own blood, opting instead to continue his assault. "You traitorous fool!" He raised and pointed the scepter down into Omari's face, grinning wickedly as he felt the body beneath him going slack despite all previous resistance. "One way or another, you _will_ obey."

Omari gritted his teeth as a restrained cry slipped through. The King focused intently on his face as he used the end of his scepter to tip up the chin of his victim. Omari's head thrashed back and his mouth opened wide, an even louder howl of agony escaping him as his body became increasingly racked with pain. The unbearable searing sensation coursed through his veins, faster as his pulse quickened. He'd never felt such crippling pain before, and it took every last ounce of his willpower to oppose the man inflicting it. With great strain, he groaned, "N-never."

Bakari's brow wrinkled in confusion at his brother's obstinacy. For one fleeting moment, he contemplated a simple solution. _End this quickly, right here and now…Silence the insolent whelp forever_.

Flinching away his dark thoughts before they could perpetuate their intended action, he retracted his instrument and slowly leaned forward. "You should know better than to challenge me, Omari," he growled as he closely studied the bold and tortured expression hidden beneath the mask of blood on his brother's face. "Why would you persist with such futile efforts, unless…"

Omari pressed his lips together tightly and shot Bakari a look of unwavering determination.

The King's eyes widened in realization. "Of course," he said with a hint of amusement. " _You love her_." He grinned, quite pleased with his discovery. This could certainly prove to be quite the advantage. His original plan to infiltrate the royal family with an arranged marriage may have been foiled, but he no longer needed his brother to be a suitor…now that he had grown close to—and trusted by—the Queen, he had become the perfect _weapon_.

"What would _you_ know of love?" Omari spat.

King Bakari leaned in closer. "Only that it weakens you. You could have saved her by doing as I ordered. All you had to do was marry the witch. All that I desired was political influence in Albion…" He shook his head. "Now I will just have to claim it for myself." Tightly grasping Omari's face in his hand, Bakari's eyes narrowed, and with an ominous whisper, he concluded, "After _you've_ killed her for me."

In both disgust and bitter protest, Omari began thrashing beneath the King's hold. Bakari quickly called his guards in and ordered them to shackle and take his brother to the dungeons. The Prince's resolve may be strong and unbreakable right now, but it was nothing that could not be remedied by some time spent locked away in a cold, dark cell, where he could not escape Bakari's dark influence.

The battered Prince was dragged away by the guards, and behind them the heavy golden doors closed with a thud that echoed through the King's lavish bedchamber. Bakari retrieved his scepter and walked over to his desk to place it back inside its velvet-lined box. His lips curled up into a nefarious grin as he glided an index finger across the soft, dark fabric. Once Albion was under his control, it would only be a matter of time until Aurora followed, and by then, the rest of the world would undoubtedly be bowing before him.

* * *

Ben made haste toward Jack's cell inside the dungeon. The cold, dank passageways were sparsely lit by torches, just enough to see a few feet ahead but not enough to afford prisoners the luxury of any extra light. He could see the fog of his breath dissipating into the chilled air, and he began to wonder how any living soul could survive so much as an hour in these conditions. _How long had this place been so uninhabitable? How much longer would it have gone unnoticed if it weren't for a friend needing medical attention?_ Just as he rounded a corner into the corridor where Jack was confined, he heard Logan and Marina breaking out into a heated debate.

"How could you be so _shallow_ , Logan? So cold toward the only family I have left?" Marina cried out.

"Do not blame _me_ for _his_ choices, Marina. Just because the two of you shared the same womb does not make him trustworthy!" Logan spat.

"How dare you!" she shouted, her voice now echoing through the stone walls.

Ben rushed up to the two, interjecting before things could escalate any further. "That's enough! There won't be anyone to argue about if we do not tend to him right now." He grabbed a torch from the wall, cautiously ushered Logan aside, and made his way into Jack's cell as Marina followed closely behind.

The torch dimly lit the prison cell as dark, twisting shadows danced over each faintly illuminated surface. The walls glistened with the icy drippings from the melting snow above ground. Jack lay curled up on the floor in the corner, shivering as he gasped in very short, erratic breaths. The initial sight shocked Ben. He could hardly recognize the pale, trembling man laying before him. The young man who was once so full of vitality and vigor had become devoid of all color and emotion. The image left Ben speechless. Trying to bury the rising feelings of guilt and negligence, he focused on visually assessing the severity of the situation.

Logan reached in, grabbing Marina by the arm. "You shouldn't be in there. You could catch-"

"Let go!" she snapped back as she jerked her arm from his grasp. "I'm not leaving him." She shot Logan a look of pure indignation, eyes wide with determination and lips pursed firmly together as she stood steadfast in her place.

Logan's fist tightened around one of the prison door's iron bars,and his eyes narrowed as he glared back at her. He remained silent for only a moment before hissing through a clenched jaw. "Marina…"

Now beginning to lose his patience, Ben snapped around to face them, raising a pointed finger in their direction. "If you two can't be quiet, I'm going to have to ask you both to very respectfully _sod off_."

He turned back around, squatted down in front of Jack and placed a hand around the man's wrist. Jack's skin felt cold and clammy to the touch, and Ben repositioned his fingertips over the artery in his neck to feel for a stronger pulse. He closed his eyes focused intently, but he still could not detect a stable heart rhythm.

"Jack!" Marina cried out from behind Ben. "Please hold on!"

Ben turned his head, shooting Logan a quick look of regret before shifting his gaze and addressing Marina solemnly. "You've done everything you can for him, Marina. I need you to go and find Dr. Collins while _I_ do everything _I_ can. Make sure he is waiting for us in the guest quarters."

Marina's breathing hitched as she caught herself beginning to weep. She knew she had to be strong, she did not want to leave her brother's side when his life was hanging in the balance. With great hesitation, she turned to exit the cell, and Logan held a torch out to her just outside the threshold. He reached out to cup her face with his other hand, but she rushed off before he could touch her or give her the light. It wasn't long at all before the sound of her swishing skirts could no longer be heard down the hallway.

In an attempt to take out his frustrations on the iron-barred door of the prison cell, Logan violently flung it open as he reentered, sending a thunderous echo of metal clashing with stone ringing out through the dungeon. It jolted Jack through his weakened state of consciousness and his body jerked as he sucked in a sharp, painful gasp.

"Get it together, mate!" Ben shouted harshly at his incensed brother-in-law. "Right now I don't give a _hobbe's ass_ about your love life!" Not wanting to panic the gravely ill man he was treating, he paused to lower his voice. "He could _die_ , you know. I've seen soldiers perish from much less… _Now_ , can you put your shit aside and help me?"

With a sigh of exasperation, Logan ran a rigid hand through his hair and curtly nodded.

"Right, then," Ben said as he began wrapping blankets around Jack. "Let's get him ready for transport, and quickly."

* * *

After having twice read the letter from the Samarkandian woman named Lailah, Evelyn sprung up to quickly finish packing any essentials that would be needed for the trip. She reopened the travel bag and closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

Behind the curtains of her eyelids, she saw the image of a black wolf. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut more tightly, only to see flashes of the same wolf, now bloodied and snarling. Jarred by the disturbing vision, she forced her eyes open, gasping for air as she collapsed forward to catch herself on the bed.

Looking down at the bedspread in a blank stare as she remained hunched over, perching herself up on the palms of her hands, she tried to reassure herself that she was not going mad. _It was nothing. Just thoughts from this morning, resurfacing. Focus…for Omari. There is no time to come undone._

Slowly exhaling as she stood up straight and rubbed her temples, she wondered when the constant stress would ever let up. When would she be able to simply savor life—and a family—with Ben?

… _Would_ she ever?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rap at the door. She glanced over her shoulder at the clock on her nightstand. It was too soon for Ben to have returned already, so she assumed it was either Jasper or Helena coming to help her prepare for her journey. She cleared her throat before calling out, "Come in."

Marina entered, appearing uncommonly pale and shaken. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she looked at Evelyn. "Evelyn, I…It's my brother…" She paused, biting her lip.

Evelyn's eyes widened and she brought her hand to her chest, thinking that the worst had befallen him. "Oh gods _…NO._ "

Marina shook her head and drew in a shaky breath. "He is still holding on…thanks to Ben. But it doesn't look good." She brushed away an emerging tear. "He's being brought to the guest quarters, and I've come to ask if I may take one of the nearby rooms so that I can be close in case…" She pressed her lips together, unable to speak of the very real chance that he could not have long. "…In case he needs me."

Evelyn sighed in relief that Jack was still holding on. " _Of course_ , Marina, but you do not need to ask such things. The castle is your _home_." She turned to pick up her travel bag and continued to speak softly and supportively. "You know that I am here for you, and that my door is always-"

**_*Click*_ **

Evelyn quickly whipped back around to see that Marina had disappeared and the door had quietly latched shut behind her. If it weren't for the urgency of her impending departure, she would have gone off after her. She felt as if she has just lost her best friend. Perhaps Marina had been holding a great deal of resentment toward her for Jack's condition. The prisons _were_ in shambles, and _she_ was the Queen. The mere thought that she had hurt the very woman who had saved her from spiraling down a very dark path…knocked the wind from her lungs and pained her heart to no end. But she still had a job to do. Gulping deeply, she moved to the weapon cabinet to retrieve the last of their essentials.

* * *

After completing all of the necessary travel preparations, Evelyn checked the time. The longer that she had not heard from Ben, the more she worried about Jack. She decided to make her way down the hall, toward the guest chambers. Ben and Logan emerged from the room where Jack had been taken, and as she neared them, she could clearly see that both of their faces were painted with doubt. Logan marched right by her without so much as a word or a glance. Her eyes flitted back to Ben, and her brow wrinkled with worry and confusion.

"Is he going to be alright?" she asked Ben in a nervous, hushed tone.

Ben hooked his arm under hers and began escorting her away. "Dr. Collins is with him now, and we won't know for sure until he's had some time to fully examine him."

She stopped and turned to him, whispering even more softly. "Have you seen Marina?"

"She's with him," he assured her, nodding. "And that would also be the reason why Logan is so _chipper_ right now. Marina's arranged to have her things brought up to one of the guest chambers." He sighed as he drew her close to him and kissed the top of her head. "But it'll all sort itself out, love."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and turned her head to the side, pressing her cheek to his shoulder as she glanced back at the room where Jack lay critically ill.

"Evie?" His finger stroked the underside of her chin, gently tipping it up until their eyes met. "Jack is under the very best care in Albion right now. Your brother and Marina will be just fine when things calm down a bit." He placed a soft, chaste kiss on her lips and stepped back to continue leading her down the hallway.

Evelyn nodded. "You're probably right, but-"

" _Probably_?" He grinned at her slyly.

She smiled back at her very charming husband, but her lighthearted expression faded as soon as she continued speaking about the severity of the situation. "But that doesn't change the fact that Jack nearly died…and that this happened under _my_ rule." Her eyes slashed up to meet his. " _I_ let this happen, Ben."

Ben shook his head adamantly. "You're the Queen, love. You aren't the warden or a military officer. The prison system is _shit_ , and we know that now. We can do something about that, but we _can't_ change what happened." He cupped the side of her face with his hand and she felt the very tips of his fingers weaving into her hair. His brow raised and his eyes widened as he firmly stated, " _Stop blaming yourself_."

She nodded quietly in response, and they crossed into the war room where Logan waited impatiently for them. Ben closed the door behind them, and Evelyn approached her brother as he stood rigid, facing away, one hand tucked behind his back in a tight fist, and the other tensely gripping his forehead.

"Logan, I know you have a great deal going on right now, but Ben and I need to leave for—"

Her brother whipped around so quickly, his cape whistled through the air. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his eyes narrowed. She had known from plenty of previous experience that this was _not_ the ideal time to be asking him for _anything_.

"You cannot be serious," he growled.

Rather than engage her brother in argument, she instead decided that it would be best to say only what was necessary so that—even if he was irate—he'd be irate and _informed_. "We will be leaving for Samarkand…today. The situation there is dire, and Omari's life is in danger."

She hesitantly looked back into his eyes. He pressed his lips together and exhaled loudly through his nose, both hands now firmly on his hips as the severity of his gaze persisted. She was rather surprised and impressed by this display of restraint, and so she took his silence as an opportunity to convey the difficult part.

"We may be gone for a while, and…" She bit down nervously on her lower lip. "In our absence, _you_ will have to rule the kingdom."

Logan flinched, and his silence finally broke. She was expecting him to holler or erupt with bitter protest, but he again surprised her as he snarled through a tightened jaw, "This is not _wise_ , Evelyn." He turned and paced across the room, stopping at a window and clasping his hands behind his back as he looked out over Bowerstone. "You cannot leave this to me. I was relieved the day you took it…and I have not wanted it back since."

He turned back around, and the scowl that previously masked his face was gone. Now he just appeared reluctant and anxious. She was struck by this sudden change in demeanor, and she interrupted Ben as he began to speak, worried that _his_ particular method of encouraging her brother might only serve to irritate him more.

"We are no longer a country at war," she assured him as she slowly paced over to him. "You and I have both had to make painful decisions in order to save Albion. But that's behind us now." She stood close to him, looked up into his dark, troubled eyes, and whispered, "And right now, you're next in line, Logan." Her gaze dropped as she continued to mutter under her breath, "Because I haven't produced an heir."

"Evie," Ben cut in as he strode over to them, curious about the conversation he'd been excluded from. "What's-"

She turned and placed a hand gently against Ben's shoulder. "He's fine, it is just…" She looked back at Logan empathetically. "One exceptionally _shitty_ day for my brother." She pressed her lips together, half smiling, and her brows raised with hope that her statement would break the tension that had built.

Logan let out a sigh and blinked for the first time in what seemed like forever. The corners of his tight-lipped mouth turned up ever-so-slightly before he scoffed, "I would worry less about _me_ and more about what your eloquent husband—" His eyes slashed over to Ben. "—is doing to your once-refined vocabulary."

Evelyn looked up at Logan and smiled with gratitude for his amenability. "Don't forget that Jasper is here to help, and you can always throw the dirty work to Reaver," she chuckled.

"Oh, _ma chère_!" Reaver called out, closing the door behind him and pacing swiftly over to the group. "A brilliant idea, indeed. It would be my absolute _pleasure_ to get dirty at work!" He arrived at Evelyn's side and snaked his arm around her waist, turning her swiftly into his embrace. Her hands loosely held onto his arms, and she looked up to see his sharky grin and a perfectly arched brow raised suggestively over his flawlessly kohl-lined eye while the other side of his face was mostly obscured by thick waves of raven locks. Reaver loved making an entrance; in fact she was convinced that everything the man did was done out of an incessant need for constant attention and adulation.

"Alright, mate. Let's not push it. _Hands off_ ," Ben ordered the Industrialist as he reached his arm out to retrieve his wife.

"Hmm…" Reaver released her, turned to Ben, and held out his arms, pouting as he spoke with melodramatic pity. " _Benji_ …are you feeling left out?"

"Hardly." Ben shot his hand up in the air to stop the other man's playful advance. "We really must be leaving. Logan can fill you in on the details, and I'm sure he'd be just chuffed to bits if you'd stick around to help while we're gone."

Logan looked highly unamused, as if he were about to lose what little patience and restraint he had left. He stomped through the group and made a swift break for the door, leaving them with one final gripe on his way out. "Do not get yourselves killed."

Reaver watched the former King hastily leaving the room and offered him some words of wisdom before he closed the door behind him. "Looks as if someone's sword could use a good _sheathing_." He turned back to face Evelyn and Ben with a devious smirk and a waggle of the brow.

She looked up at the towering man who stood even taller because of the stovepipe hat that he insisted on wearing inside. With no time to waste, she immediately disregarded his banter and instead tried to fill him in on the details as quickly as she could. "Ben and I must leave the castle immediately. Omari is in grave danger, and his brother has become a threat to all of Samarkand."

Reaver's face dropped rather unexpectedly. "You are both going to _Samarkand_?" he inquired, his voice laced with surprise.

Slightly confused by his atypical reaction, her response spilled out in the form of a question. She tilted her head and raised a brow. "… _Yes?_ "

Reaver stroked his chin, pursing his lips together before saying, "You will need to take refuge somewhere safe. Samarkand is nothing like Aurora. While it _is_ a great place to go if you do not wish to be found, in the same regard, if something terrible should happen to either of you…no one _will_ find you." He straightened his posture and lifted his chin, nodding decisively. "You will stay in my abode there."

Ben jumped in with piqued interest. "Wait…you have a _home_ in Samarkand? Why in balverine's balls do you—" He paused and shook his head before putting his hands up in surrender. "Actually, mate, I don't even want to know. We don't have time for your sordid tales."

Reaver maintained a serious tone, responding without entertaining the perfect opportunity to interject a story of a past sexual conquest, quite surprisingly. "You will find the key in the garden, buried under the only bench that looks familiar to both of you."

"I don't understand," Evelyn interjected. "Why is there a hidden key to a house you never use? Is this some sort of trick?"

Reaver's eyes drifted off into space, and for a moment, she recognized a fleeting glint of sadness crossing over them. "Its…intended recipient…did not claim it." His eyes darted back to her, having returned to their previous stoic appearance. "You will be safe there. There are plenty of provisions inside, and the building is nigh impervious." He marched over to the desk and quickly dipped a quill in ink before producing a rudimentary drawing of the building's location. Blowing against the freshly inked parchment, he walked back over to the pair and handed it to Evelyn. "You will find it here," he said, pointing at the spot he'd marked with an 'X'.

She studied Reaver like the intricate puzzle that he was, searching for any sign of what he was masterfully hiding from both her and Ben. Unable to find the answers she sought, and unwilling to invest any more precious time into doing so, she nodded at him in agreement. "Thank you. We will look for the house when we arrive, now we really must be going."

Ben reached out and firmly shook Reaver's hand. "Thanks, mate. Try not to run off the help while we're gone. Don't treat our castle like your mansion."

"Very well," Reaver quipped. "I promise to satisfy all of my murderous cravings _off the premises_ , Benjamin."

Ben and Evelyn made their way to the bedchamber where he hoisted their travel pack over his shoulder, and they both performed their ritual-like inventory of the weapons they wielded, quickly touching each holstered weapon to account for it. They faced each other and joined hands, and she looked up at him with uncertainty, chewing her lower lip.

"Not to worry, sweetheart," he assured her with a grin. "As I recall, you and I fared _very_ well in the desert the last time, did we not?" He kissed her softly.

A wide grin crossed her face and she nodded. She channeled a teleportation spell, and they were quickly enveloped in radiant blue light as they departed.

* * *

**A/N: Please take a moment to leave your feedback in a review! I love reading all of your thoughts and predictions. If you haven't yet, please also follow/favorite the story (and me) if you enjoy what you're reading!**

**Special thanks to my friends Bishou no Marina, kiltsaresexy, AlexaStormborn and Era-Age, and to those who have left reviews so far: Tinalbion, xxFireAndIce, Kami2015, MNJenkins, bash328, Violet Enigma, Fallon-Idalia, deathofaraven, Sarah Montrose, and alexandria white. You are all the driving force that motivates me to write this. Hugs all around!**


	3. Departure

Jasper had been working diligently inside the Hero Queen's Sanctuary when a radiant flash of light caught him off-guard. For the past few months, he had been using his spare time to discreetly restore its fifth and final room. He rose to his feet and hurried through the threshold, closing the bookcase-concealed door behind him. As he approached the rotunda, the butler quickly straightened himself, tugging at the hem along the bottom of his coat to smooth out any wrinkles. The guild seal on the entry platform glowed a bright blue, surging with blinding white light just before Ben and Evelyn appeared atop it.

Jasper smiled, his voice peaking with pleasant surprise. "Your Majesty! Your Highness! Lovely to see you both, though I'm afraid you have no new packages or correspondence today."

"Jasper.." Evelyn smiled softly at the elderly man as she and Ben approached the map table. "Do you know anything about _Samarkand_?" she inquired, gripping the rails as she leaned forward to intently study the geography.

"Do you require information about the land itself, or how to reach it?" Jasper approached the opposite side of the table, folding his hands together.

" _Both_ ," Ben replied. "I've no direct way in through the globe that my father left me." He looked down at the map, his eyes scanning intently. "We thought perhaps Evie's mother may have left a point of entry _here_."

"I am sorry, your Highness," Jasper said regretfully to the Prince-Consort. "But the only way in or out of Samarkand is by sea."

Evelyn sucked in a breath, shaking her head as her face fixed with worry. "No… Sailing from Bowerstone could take weeks, and we—" She grew more rigid, nervously clenching the table rails before sighing, "We cannot afford that kind of time."

Jasper moved to stand next to Evelyn, placing one warm, yet frail hand on hers as he pointed down onto the map with the other. " _This_ is Samarkand, Your Majesty." He traced his outstretched finger around the land's border. "Mountains barricade the west… north… _and_ east. The _shore_ , however…" He rest his finger over the southernmost point, raising a brow. "…is known as _Fairwinds_." He gently tapped the point of interest before standing up straight and facing the two. "This port-town _is_ the only way in, but do not fret, my Queen."

Ben and Evelyn looked at each other curiously as the elderly butler walked behind them both, stopping to the right of the Prince before pointing down to a more familiar point on the map: the desert land to the south. "It would take no more than one week, should you sail from _Aurora_."

Ben's lips turned up as he gave Jasper a light pat on the shoulder. "Brilliant! And should the winds be on our side, we could make even better time. Great thinking, mate!"

Jasper smiled and nodded. "It is my pleasure, Your Highness. I should note that when you arrive at Fairwinds port, you should both wait until you reach a more… _secluded_ destination before setting a waypoint for future teleportation. The people of this foreign land may not be very accepting of heroes _or_ their magic. _Do_ take caution." He paced back around to the opposite end of the table, clasped his hands together and asked, "Do either of you require anything else?"

Evelyn laced her fingers with Ben's and placed her other hand over Aurora on the map, pausing to look up at her dear old friend with hope in her eyes. "You've saved us a great deal of precious time, Jasper…time that we will need in order to save Omari. I cannot thank you enough." She looked back down at her destination and took a deep breath as a wave of nervousness crashed over her. "By the will of the Light, we will see you again soon."

"I have every confidence that you will, indeed, my Queen," Jasper assured her as he bowed his head. "Safe travels."

Ben raised Evelyn's hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on it as she began channeling their teleportation spell. A whooshing sound filled the small room, and the two were quickly enveloped in blue light, vanishing into thin air.

Jasper waited a moment after they'd both gone, looking at the empty space where they had stood just seconds ago. He wrung his hands together and turned back toward the Sanctuary's fifth room, where he still had a great deal of restoration to do. Time was of the essence, and he could not afford any of it to stand around and worry.

 _They_ will _be fine,_ he assured himself, letting his faith in the two Heroes prevail as he returned to his important task.

* * *

Arriving in the city of Aurora was bittersweet for both Evelyn and Ben. They'd not been there _together_ since rescuing Logan; an eye—and heart—opening trip for both of them. This was where they made their first home, their first professions of love, and the child whom they would never have the blessing of knowing. While they would never forget what they lost, neither of them felt pain or sadness when returning to the desert town. It was a place of hope and peace. It was _their_ sanctuary.

Evelyn, still holding on to Ben's hand, closed her eyes and tipped her face skyward, inhaling deeply though her nose, savoring the spicy, familiar scent of the city. A soft smile crossed her lips as she continued to drink in the atmosphere. _If only we could stay, just for a little while…_ she thought.

Ben leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, pulling back with a satisfied smile and responding as if he heard her thoughts aloud, "Light knows I want to stay, too, Evie. But…" He joined her in gazing upon the city, pausing as the sights filled him with awe.

The country had flourished considerably in just under one year; the time since it had officially become a part of Albion. Small businesses were bustling, smooth sandstone pathways ran throughout the city, building facades showcased all of the rich, warm colors that the Aurorans embraced, and fountains and waterways had been added to provide all of the residents with access to fresh water.

It was a relief for Ben and Evelyn to see that this special place still felt very much the same, even with all of the changes. Countless technological advances were being made back home in Bowerstone's industrial revolution, all of which were made available for trade export to Aurora. The Auroran people, however, under the leadership of Kalin, opted to make their own advances that would remain true to their beliefs. They were beginning to truly harness the powers of wind and water—natural sources which were bestowed by the gods—to run their city. Because of this, they did not have the air or noise pollution that had become an unfortunate side effect in Bowerstone Industrial. The air was clean and warm; carrying with it the fragrant, earthy incenses that were used in the everyday rituals of the citizens. The tranquil sound of running water, much like a small stream or brook, mingled with the gentle hiss of the breeze as it propelled the thick paper blades of wind-catchers round and round. It was a soothingly beautiful backdrop to the sounds of the people going about their day.

Evelyn could have stood there for an eternity, soaking up the ambience. She could have spent the entire day catching up with her dear friend, Kalin, over a cup of prickly-pear infused water.

The loud clang of a bell sounded from the docks to signal the ship's arrival and effectively jolting Evelyn from her wishful thinking. "Alas, we have work to do," she sighed, letting out a soft chuckle of disappointment.

Ben placed his hand on the small of her back, encouraging her toward the city. "I'll go and get us set up with a cabin aboard the ship, love. Go on ahead and pick up some provisions for the voyage. We've got about an hour yet." He kissed the side of her face, grinning against her ear as he whispered, "Just try to stay out of trouble."

Evelyn nodded with a wide smile as she began to walk away, responding teasingly, "Says the _King_ of finding trouble!"

Tossing his head back with a snort, Ben reached out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her back into his arms before she could get away with the last word. He narrowed his eyes mischievously as he gently squeezed her. "Right you are, darling. After all, I _did_ find _you_ , so I suppose the title is quite fitting in that respect."

Evelyn looked up and pressed a kiss to the bottom of his chin before releasing herself from his hold. "See you in an hour, Your Highness," she said, playfully with a bow of her head before darting off into the city.

* * *

Ben could see no sign of Evelyn as he stood at port, looking into the city that glowed a deep blood orange with the setting sun. It had been nearly an hour since she left for provisions, and he knew that there would be no stalling a ship with a tight schedule. He also knew that she'd never forgive herself if they were delayed on her account. Could she really have lost track of time when they were on such an important mission?

_Damn it, Evie…_

A bell rang out behind him and he quickly looked over his shoulder. The sailors had begun untying the dock lines that were holding the ship in place. _Shit_ , he thought. He whipped back around, his eyes scanning the city streets more intently. Just then, a blindingly radiant light flashed before him and the atmospheric disturbance forced him back a few steps.

Evelyn appeared, smiling as she reached out for his arm, catching him before he stumbled over his own feet. "You worry too much, my love," she chuckled, observing his face which had fixed with anxiousness.

"…And _you_ don't worry enough, sweetheart," he replied, firmly grasping her hand and making a break for the ship.

The two stopped just before the entrance, and Ben showed the first mate their boarding passes. Evelyn got her first close-up look at the ship and let go of his hand. Her lighthearted expression quickly fell as hesitance washed over her. The last time she and Ben had traveled by sea, they were shipwrecked and separated. Her stomach started twisting in knots. She tipped her head back, looking all the way up the mast, and her pulse quickened while a dizzying feeling swirled about inside her head.

"All hands, prepare for departure!" the Captain barked in a thick accent, his orders suddenly making this impending voyage all too real—and terrifying—to her.

Her eyes flitted back down to the main deck to inspect the man in charge of the ship and she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a black Mistpeak wolf. Before she could reason the strange vision to herself, the beast appeared to gaze into her soul as it bore its teeth. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she flinched before turning away.

 _Impossible…_ she thought to herself. Her knees weakened and she shook her head, trying to escape the ramping sound of her own pounding heart.

"Evie?" Ben stepped in front of her, confused by her sudden change in demeanor. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, raising his brows convincingly. "You know I was kidding about you needing to worry more, right? This is a fine ship," he said, turning her back to face the snow-brig as he gestured toward its mainmast. "Sturdy as they come." He pointed to the water below. "And you can't see from here, love, but she's got a keel underneath that rivals those of our own ships. It's like her backbone, and I promise you, it's a _strong_ one."

Ben's reassurance always put Evelyn at ease, but she could not help but feel skeptical about this journey. She looked back up to the helm of the ship, pointing as she raised her brows with uncertainty. "Did you see…" She searched a moment, her eyes darting back and forth. A black four-legged creature ran out from behind the captain and disappeared below deck. Her eyes widened and she gasped as she pointed again with more fervor. "There!" she rasped, looking back at him. Her face turned white as linens and she gulped deeply. "Tell me I am not crazy."

"What, the captain, or his mutt?" Ben asked curiously. "I've already had the pleasure of making his acquaintance and I can say with absolute certainty that he's harmless… unless you're afraid of a little drool." He paused, the corners of his mouth turning up devilishly. "His dog is _quite_ the pushover as well," he chuckled, gently coaxing her toward the ship.

She took a deep breath as her heart continued to pound, more violently with every step she took. She knew that boarding the intimidating vessel was necessary. It was the only way in or out of Samarkand until she and Ben could create a new waypoint to use for future teleportation. Even though she knew that this would be the only sea voyage they'd have to take in their quest to rescue Omari, she was still overcome with fear.

"Here we are, love," Ben said, holding a hand out to her as she took one final step off of the gangplank, the ship's final tether to land.

She took Ben's hand, looking down as she stepped aboard the ship. Her knees nearly buckled with the unfamiliar sensation of rising and falling beneath her feet. Her stomach sunk and she could feel the blood draining from her face as Ben wrapped his arm firmly around her waist, ushering her toward their cabin.

The sound of wood sliding against wood drew her attention, and she turned to see the crew members retracting the plank as the ship pushed off. There really was no turning back now. _Unless…_ She gazed over to the sandy shore beyond the dock as it slowly grew in distance. For a fleeting moment, she thought of how simply she could just teleport back over to the comfort of solid ground, but she quickly shook off the shameful thought as a chill ran up her spine. They'd only just departed, and already the soothing, spiced air of Aurora had faded into the cold, salty ocean breeze.

Ben stood behind her, placing his hands on her hips to steady her swaying as she looked back at Aurora, longingly. He rest his chin on her shoulder and let his arms snake around her midsection, unable to see her face but reading her anxiety through the trembling of her body. "We'll be back before you know it." He paused a moment, his brows raising as he drew in a quick breath. "How about a tour of the ship?" he asked with sudden enthusiasm. "She really is quite the marvel. Nothing at all like our ships back home!"

Evelyn sharply turned around, looking up at him as if he'd gone mad. "You _can't_ be serious, Ben."

" _What?_ " He held his hands up, shrugging his shoulders as he shook his head. "Darling, the only way to get over your fear of sailing is to-"

"I'm _not_ afraid," she interjected vehemently. "I just _really_ …" She paused, frowning as her brow wrinkled with frustration. She was, indeed, scared out of her wits, but she was not about to reveal that fear out in the open. "I'm just _tired_ , is all," she insisted.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, studying her face discerningly. "It's much harder to fear something you learn to _understand_ , Evie," he persuaded.

The ship crossed over a large wave, and Evelyn's scrambled to maintain her footing, reaching out to Ben as she fell forward. The steep and sudden rise of the ship sent her stomach into her throat. He caught her with a smile on his face, chuckling, "It's okay, love. You'll get your sea legs. Till then, I'll be more than happy to catch you."

Evelyn gulped deeply as her face turned a pale shade of green. "Damn it, Ben." She retracted one hand from its grasp on him to hold her churning stomach, but that only served to compound the nausea. Her eyes slashed up at him angrily. She did not want to be sick and embarrassed among all of the seaworthy sailors who darted about effortlessly to perform their duties. Her temper grew short as the sickness rose rapidly. "This is not a fucking joke," she hissed.

Ben's grin fell, and he looked empathetically into her watering eyes. She was struggling to contain her tears in addition to her stomach. "Alright," he said soothingly. "Try and keep your head up, sweetheart. Your body is just trying to adjust. It's only temporary." They hadn't been on the last ship long enough for her to show such adjustment, but he hoped to the gods that she was not one of the unfortunate few who never did.

She followed his instruction and lifted her head, willing to do anything to alleviate the horrid feeling twisting in her gut. Her face flushed with heat and despite the next rock of the ship being rather tame, it was still too much for her weakened stomach. She groaned and pushed away from him, stumbling dizzily to the edge of the ship just in time to retch over the side. The rising and falling of the endless waves pushed the rail painfully into her stomach as her body bent over it. It was as if the sea was punishing her. Fearing she may be tossed into the waters below, she clung tightly to the vessel which she loathed, and wept.

Ben hurried over to her side and placed a hand between her shoulder blades, gently rubbing in circles. "It _will_ pass, Evie," he whispered softly.

She slowly pushed herself up and took a deep breath, the salty air stinging the back of her throat. The only relief she felt was from the sea breeze sweeping across her face, cooling her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. She looked up at him regretfully, whispering, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, I'm just…" She paused, gulping deeply.

He nodded knowingly and drew her into his arms.

She sighed softly. The familiar scent of gunpowder was a soothing distraction from the sea, and it always had a strangely therapeutic effect on her when she felt ill. Since his heroic awakening, it had only grown stronger, ever-present regardless of what weapons he carried. "I feel powerless here," she murmured. " _And that terrifies me._ "

Ben softly kissed the top of her head. "Not powerless… _courageous_. You have more power than you give yourself credit for, love. Not everyone can admit their fears while actually confronting them."

The ship pitched back up, and Evelyn slumped into Ben, wincing as her aching insides became tossed around some more.

"Alright, love," he reassured her as he led her to their cabin. "Perhaps we will explore more of the ship once you've had some rest."

* * *

Evelyn woke in Ben's arms, her half-lidded eyes flitting around in confusion. Waking up in a strange place—especially one that never stopped moving—had caught her off guard. It was dark inside the cabin, save for the dull flicker of a near-empty oil lamp. Everything was foreign to her: the sound of the water splashing up against the ship, the shuffling of the crew above deck, and the creaking of the wood as it bent to the will of the ocean.

Very gingerly, she rolled onto her side while still under Ben's arm, taking care not to wake him. She propped her head up on her hand to look out the small porthole window which revealed the clearest, most brilliant night sky she'd ever laid eyes on. The stars appeared to float around inside the circular window, much like the tiny specks inside a snow globe. With a soft sigh, she began resting her head back down.

The single clang of a bell sounded from the deck, and Evelyn looked toward the door of their small cabin, concerned that the abrupt noise could be a signal for something bad.

"Twe deo!" a sailor bellowed outside.

Evelyn's mind had been so full of anxiety and worry when she boarded, she hardly took notice of this foreign tongue the sailors used with which she was completely unfamiliar. It sounded rich and exotic, yet strangely intimidating. If something were going wrong outside, she would have no idea, but she was unsure of whether or not she really _wanted_ to know.

"Rus, fennasani! Vaidane!" shouted another.

Looking over her shoulder at her husband, who slept peacefully, Evelyn wondered just how anyone could sleep through such ruckus. She gently lifted his arm and slid out from underneath it, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up straight. She glanced back once more at Ben as he gripped her unoccupied pillow into his arms and continued to snore. Stumbling as she stood, she caught herself against the wall. After a few moments, she regained her footing and slid Ben's trench coat on before venturing outside.

She emerged into a hustle and bustle of sailors as they scattered to different points aboard the ship. Her head darted back and forth as she tried to assess what was going on. More incomprehensible orders were barked back and forth, and as she observed, she realized that had this have been an emergency, things might appear more chaotic, much as they did the night their ship was shot down. These men were calm, conducting their duties in a routine fashion. She sighed in relief as she turned back toward the cabin, pausing a moment in revelation.

The ship had been moving this whole time, same as it had when she boarded, yet she stood now without stumbling, and she no longer felt the urge to be sick. A soft smile crossed her lips as she turned back toward the main deck, remembering the very small sampling of stars she'd seen through her cabin window. She nodded to the crewmen as she passed them by, making her way to the mainmast.

 _Oh, my stars…_ she thought as she leaned back against the mast and gazed up into the infinite night sky. It was so crystal clear, there appeared to be millions of tiny, flickering stars scattered throughout the prominent constellations she'd once read about. She continued to gape in awe of the beautiful sight, and the ship suddenly bucked up a few feet. Quickly, she looked back down, and her head begun to spin.

"Shit," she muttered to herself, grabbing a rope for balance as her stomach began twisting in response. _Please, not again…_

A woman quietly giggled from behind her, smiling as she approached. She was dressed much like the other sailors aboard the ship, with swashbuckling boots, weathered clothing and multiple trinkets that dangled from her belts. Her brown hair had been tossed up into a messy bun, the sun-streaked strands still noticeable in the moonlight. Everything about the woman appeared intimidating and cold, except for her face which was both calm and reassuring.

"Are you alright, Miss?" she softly asked in a thick accent, her lips still turned up into a warm smile. The lines that ran over her deep, bronze complexion were a testament to her strength and devotion to a life at sea.

"Forgive me," Evelyn responded, blushing with slight embarrassment. She would normally never swear outside a private setting, but adjusting to ship travel had proved to be far more difficult than she ever imagined. "I'm not very used to all of this," she added as she looked around her.

"You don't say?" the woman chuckled as she offered an outstretched hand. "My name is Lea. I am the navigator aboard this ship."

Evelyn shook Lea's hand and smiled back. "I'm-"

"I know who you are, Your Majesty," Lea whispered as she raised her brows. "But do not worry, the men aboard are none the wiser. I take it upon myself to study the world both off and on dry land." She looked over her shoulder at the sailors as they continued their work and looked back at Evelyn with a grin. " _They_ , however, would much rather study the bottom of a rum keg in their spare time."

Feeling suddenly at ease, Evelyn laughed along with the woman. "Thank you, Lea. I am sure we can both agree that men can become more easily…distracted," she chuckled.

Pointing a thumb over her shoulder at the crew behind her, Lea nodded with a grin. "Precisely why these men tasked _me_ with navigation." The older woman's face quickly shifted with concern as she observed a cold sweat forming on Evelyn's brow. "But enough about me, milady. Are you feeling alright? You look rather… _pale_."

"It really is beautiful out here…" Evelyn gulped deeply, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I just wish…I could enjoy it without feeling so ill." With one hand still holding onto the mast to steady her, she rest the other gently over her stomach.

"Ah, yes," Lea said, her tone conveying her expertise on the subject. "There are many ways to remedy this," she reassured her. "Not to worry, milady. I believe I have just the thing to help." She reached into a tattered leather satchel that hung from one of her belts and pulled out a bracelet. It appeared to be handmade from the same type of fibers that made the ropes aboard the ship. Strategically placed glass beads decorated the underside of the bracelet, their smooth, yet irregular shapes appearing to have been fabricated by nature. Lea held the bracelet open in front of Evelyn. "Here," she said, nodding at the Queen's free hand.

Evelyn held out her arm, tilting her head as she watched the woman securing the bracelet to her. Lea placed the beads against the underside of her wrist and knotted it closed, tugging gently to ensure a snug fit. Evelyn let go of the mast to run her hand over her strange new accessory, her brow pinched in confusion. She looked back up at Lea inquisitively. "I'm not sure I understand."

Lea smiled. "This will rid you of your afflictions at sea. That is all you need to understand."

The ship bucked as a gentle gust of ocean air washed over the two, and it was then that Evelyn realized that she neither lost her balance nor felt ill. Her eyes widened in amazement as they flitted back up to Lea. "But… _how?_ "

"I would be happy to tell you more, milady, but perhaps another time. I am sure you would much prefer to spend the rest of your evening exploring, or even stargazing now that you feel well enough." Lea gestured up to the brilliant night sky.

Evelyn took the woman's hand into both of hers as she looked at her with sincerity. "I do not know how I could ever thank you enough for helping me like this, Lea."

The navigator smiled warmly and nodded. "You just did. Have a good evening, milady." Lea softly bowed her head and turned to make her way back to her tasks.

Now free from the illness and fear that had kept her inside her small cabin, tethered to Ben, Evelyn began exploring the ship for the first time. As she paced across the deck, she nodded and smiled at the crewman she passed by, even though she did not understand their native tongue. Before reaching the very bow of the ship, she came across a small grouping of wooden crates and paused a moment. She hoisted herself atop the crates and laid down with her hands folded behind her head, gazing upward. There was both beauty and peace here. Time seemed to come to a halt and her eyelids grew heavy as the endless night sky lulled her to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**My most sincere thanks go out to those of you who are still reading this story after my long hiatus. I can promise you all I will never leave this story unfinished, no matter what life throws at me. The past six months have been both a nightmare and blessing for me, and much like my Hero Queen, I've learned that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm sorry I was away from my writing for so long, and I missed both it and my readers deeply. Now with two moves, a job layoff and a divorce behind me, my life is no longer in boxes and my desk is set back up for writing. I can't wait to bring you more of this sequel story, as there is still so much I have yet to reveal! Thank you all for your patience, I love you guys.**


	4. Once a Pirate...

"Evie!" Ben called down to Evelyn as he gently shook her by the shoulders, his tone carrying a high level of concern. "Are you alright, love? I've been looking all over for you."

Evelyn rubbed her eyes as she sat up lazily into his arms. "I'm sorry, Ben," she sighed. "I was just taking in the stars and…" She looked up, gesturing skyward, and suddenly noticed that its rich, obsidian backdrop now glowed a soft purple. "My gods, have I been sleeping out here all night?"

Ben's mouth curled up into a soft smile as he kissed the top of her head. He was relieved to find her safe and sound, but even more relieved that she'd clearly overcome her fears during her outing.

"In fact, I believe you _have_ , darling," Ben answered proudly. He hoisted her up into his arms, raising a brow as he looked suggestively into her eyes. "But what kind of husband would I be to just leave you out here to the elements?"

Evelyn looked around them, her lips pressed together as her brow knitted with confusion. The sea was calm, the sky was clear, and the wind only carried the slightest chill. It was actually rather pleasant outside.

"I've endured _far_ worse," she snickered.

"Better to err on the side of caution," he insisted, his words dripping with sarcasm as he carried her away. "You're quite a handful when you're sick."

She bit down on her lip, trying to suppress the laughter that was now bubbling up. Even after all this time, he still had a way with her. Just a look could have her captivated, and his playfully worded quips left her in absolute stitches.

"If you say so," she giggled. "Though I feel rather obliged to tell you that my legs _do_ in fact work," she assured him with her own brand of playful sarcasm.

"I'm sure they do, love," he agreed, his voice now dipping down into a smoldering timbre as his eyes focused down to trace the lines of her long limbs with admiration. "I might even venture to say that they're finally seaworthy."

Evelyn's heart jumped. Was he _really_ flirting with her? He acted as if he'd yet to win her over, though she wasn't about to complain about such things. He was making her feel positively refreshed and alive again.

Ben tightened his grip on her legs. "And now that they're well rested, I should probably see to it that they spend the remainder of the evening…" He paused as a mischievous grin crossed his lips. "Wrapped around _me_."

Completely caught off guard, Evelyn brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped. She couldn't be sure just what had gotten into him, but—looming danger aside—it was a welcome feeling to be treated like her old self again.

"Se fin aidana?" A sailor barked down to the couple from a crow's nest above.

Evelyn was startled and confused by the sudden imposition. Had she done something wrong? Was she in trouble?

Ben looked up at the sailor and nodded with a wide grin still fixed across his face. "Finnan se ima," he replied nonchalantly.

Evelyn was shocked when she heard Ben speak in the same foreign tongue as the crew. Under a wrinkled brow, her eyes inspected his face closely. Her jaw fell slack as she didn't know quite what to say after seeing a side of her husband that—all these years—she never knew existed.

Ben brought her inside their cabin and kicked the door closed with his heel, nearly tripping himself as he plopped her down on the foot of the lumpy cotton mattress with no amount of grace.

Evelyn snorted with laughter as she watched him scramble to his feet, slapping her knee as she goaded, "Perhaps _yours_ are the legs not yet worthy of the sea!"

Ben placed his hands at his hips in an attempt to feign seriousness, but he could not suppress the chuckle that was bubbling up and he quickly found himself succumbing to the hilarity with her.

The sun was still a few hours away, and the oil lamp which hung nearby was now empty, leaving the room dark, save for the faint purple glow that cascaded in through the room's only porthole.

They both fell silent—a harsh contrast from how they'd been carrying on just moments ago. The ship rocked gently, and the sounds of sloshing water and creaking boards filled the quiet room.

Evie sat with her hands in her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers. Her gaze shifted up to Ben, who was very slowly raking his hair back with one hand. She reveled in the sight of him as a tingling sensation spread throughout her belly. Was she really feeling… _nervous_?

She couldn't be sure of anything she was feeling all of the sudden. Maybe it was because they were so far from home, or perhaps conquering her fears had given her the sense of a fresh start. Regardless, she felt as if she'd been transported back to a different time—a time when he did not need to rescue her…or pity her. It was as if all of that was swept away to sea, and all that remained was what started it all… _their connection_.

"Ben?" Evelyn's eyes widened as she looked up at him wantonly.

Ben placed his hands on either side of her as he crouched down to her eye level. "The one and only, love," he responded with the same crooked grin that captivated her now just as much as it did years ago.

His smile put her at ease, washing away any nerves that had crept up, bringing her back to her former state of sheer curiosity. "Where did you learn that language?"

"Ah, _that_ is a story for another time." He leaned in, placing a soft kiss against her forehead. "For now…" He paused, placing another kiss to the tip of her nose. "I think actions might speak louder than silly little words." He cupped her face as he pressed his lips passionately against hers, drinking her in as if he'd been parched for a lifetime.

Swept up in the moment, Evelyn threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. They both breathed heavily through their noses as the kiss deepened, and as their lips parted and tongues intertwined, she softly moaned into his mouth. Her insides felt whipped up into a frenzy from the pounding of her heart and the thousands of butterflies now flitting about in her stomach.

" _Ben_ …" she said, much more assertively now as she pulled away to shake off the dizzy feeling that had overcome her. "What did you say to him?" She gulped as she tried to steady herself. "The sailor outside," she clarified.

Still breathing heavily, Ben chuckled, "You just hate it when I know more than you do, don't you?"

"Oh, please!" She shook her head, though maybe there _was_ a bit of truth to his statement. "I just feel…" She paused, fumbling for words. "…that the _Queen_ should always be kept abreast of things…you know, for the security of Albion of course," she elaborated with the most convincing tone she could muster.

Ben's body shook with inner laughter as he bit his lower lip to stifle it. "Very well, my Queen," he bowed his head playfully. "I shall always keep your breasts—er, _you abreast_ —of everything to which I am privy. Now then, when it comes to learning a new language…" He took her hands in his and helped her up to stand before him. "I reckon you might do very well with a bit of _word association_."

"Meaning…" Her eyes searched his inquisitively.

Ben quickly pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. Before she could respond, he pressed her hand against his chest. " _Coi_ ," he said slowly, his hand rubbing hers as he held it over his heart.

She was mesmerized by the way the unfamiliar word dripped from his lips. As he spoke it, she could feel it reverberating on the palm of her hand, and after that, she felt his heart beating, faster as their mutual gazes burned into each other.

"H—heart," she sighed.

Ben blinked slowly, a proud smile crossed his mouth as he nodded gently. He looked at Evelyn as if he was falling in love all over again.

"Twenai," he continued, moving in for another kiss.

Evelyn's entire body fell slack as he drank her in. The sensation was nearly intoxicating as he seduced her with both his words and touch, and that was further compounded when she breathed him in, savoring his ever-present gunpowder scent. She had always found the familiar aroma to be both comforting and alluring.

He pulled her body tightly against his, this time affording her no time to identify the last word before presenting the next one softly against her lips.

"Bais." His tone now dropping to a breathy rumble as he firmly grabbed her backside with both hands.

Her train of thought became completely derailed by his touch. She could no longer focus on the interpretation of his words. She was completely overcome by the way he touched her…spoke to her…and looked at her. In this moment, nothing and no one else existed. They were locked on to one another and not even the most raging seas could pull them apart.

Ben hoisted her up, and guided her legs around his waist. She wove her fingers into this thick golden hair, pushing it back from his face as she pulled him into a heated kiss. He let out a sigh of pure relief as he continued to blindly shuffle closer to the bed.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened with her growing need and he gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to just take her right there where they stood. Perhaps it was his reuse of the language, or maybe he'd been getting a little drunk on the salty air, but he could feel a part of himself trying to resurface that he'd long since buried: _The Pirate_.

His toes tapped against the edge of the bed frame and he found himself thankful to have made it that far without satiating the impulses of the swashbuckler within. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm her. Gently, he laid her down, kicking off his boots before climbing on top of her. Resting on his forearms, his fingers stroked the sides of her face as he looked deeply into her eyes.

" _Im se simma_ ," he vowed, his gaze burning with both sincerity and passion.

His words struck her heart. Even though she did not know their translation, she could undoubtedly _feel_ the meaning behind them. She tipped her chin up, beckoning him to kiss her again. She longed for him as if it had been a lifetime since they last connected—as if she'd die without his touch.

Ben dipped his head down, pressing his lips to hers once more as his hands began dancing slowly up her shirt. His touch ignited tingles of pure electricity beneath her skin. Even the gentlest graze of his fingertips began leaving faint trails of glowing blue across her smooth complexion.

When his hands reached her breasts, she threw her head back and gasped for air. His touch awakened every nerve ending in her body, sending a warm rush of activated will pulsing through her veins.

He looked down into her eyes which were now full of fire, and it became almost painfully difficult for him to control himself. In his mind, he could see himself savagely ripping her shirt from her body, showing her no quarter as he took her. Despite the very tempting vision, he did not give in. Instead, he slowly lifted the garment up and over her head, his mounting frustration evident in the force with which he threw the linen to the floor.

"Ima liasi coihe," he whispered into her ear as he slowly began freeing her from the confines of her brassiere.

He placed soft kisses upon every part of her body as he uncovered more, pacing himself as much as he could, despite the rising urge to nip at the sensitive bits with his teeth.

Evelyn became further swept away by the contrasting sensations across every inch of newly exposed flesh, tingling as it was met by the cool sea air before being warmed by the penetrating heat of his lips.

He began trailing his way down her stomach, sending a powerful shockwave of desire radiating though her. Her eyes fluttered closed and moments later, she felt his strong hands sweeping down her legs as he parted them.

"Ben," she panted. She looked down at him through half-lidded eyes, watching him as he slid her knickers down her legs. She bit her lip to stifle a moan when she felt his tongue teasing the delicate skin on the inside of her thigh as he moved closer to her center. It was nearly torturous—in the sweetest sense—being this close, yet not close enough.

"Please…" she whimpered, " _Take me_."

Her words struck him like an alarm. Ben shot up and began hastily fumbling with his belts, looking down at her with sheer urgency. He clearly felt the very same agonizing need that she did, and while he could have spent all night worshipping every inch of her body, in this moment he felt a desperate need to be inside of her.

Evelyn sat up to help him, and together they made quick work of his buckles and buttons. Tucking her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants, she began pushing them down, her heart now pounding wildly with anticipation. She kept shimmying the garments down past his hips until the full length of his rigid shaft sprang free. Her hand immediately reached for his sex, stroking gently as she looked up at him.

They locked eyes and shared a momentary lust-filled gaze before Ben scooped her into his arms and crushed his lips against hers, sending her crashing back down onto the bed beneath him. His pants were still bunched up around his shins as he positioned himself between her legs.

"Evie," he sighed, throbbing against her slick entrance. A pained look crossed his face as summoned his last ounce of restraint. In the haze of his passion, he could not be sure what had come over him. Usually, he'd make love to her gently—even cautiously—but right now all he could think about was ravishing her wildly.

She arched her back and began grinding against him as her hands grasped at his backside in a frenzied effort to pull him inside. "I want you…" She paused, hissing as she sucked in the air through her teeth. "I need you…" she pleaded wantonly as her eyes opened, locking back onto his. "…to _not_ hold back."

Jolted by her words, he nearly lost his breath in surprise, and for a moment, his entire body stilled as his eyes searched her face discerningly. He knew very well that she was not physically fragile. He'd seen her in action, taking down even the most formidable foes in battle. His hesitance came from the uncertainty of revealing a part of himself to her that she may dislike or fear.

" _Show me_ ," she pleaded, cupping his face as she beckoned forth the strange, yet exciting part of her husband that she'd yet to fully experience.

The moment Ben realized that his wife knew exactly what he wanted, and desired the same thing, it was as if a switch flipped inside him. He abandoned all logic and restraint as he guided both of her arms up above her head, stroking the delicate skin all the way up to her hands. He leaned forward and claimed her mouth with unbridled passion, lacing his fingers into hers. As he pulled away, his teeth gently nipped at her lower lip and he firmly pressed both of her hands down with just one of his, leaving his other hand free to roam her body.

Evelyn could barely think, let alone react as Ben suddenly displayed a dominance she'd never known him capable of. The feeling of him pressing down on her with his entire body left her on the verge of exploding as she began to quiver with need. A faint whimper escaped her lips and she wrapped her legs around him, drawing him closer.

With both of her hands still pinned under his, he reached down to grasp her knee with the other, untangling her hold on him as he pushed it up toward her shoulder. Before she could so much as begin to process the sensation of the new position, he plunged himself inside her to the hilt, causing them both to let out sharp cries of both surprise and pure rapture.

Evelyn winced, the slightest edge of pain morphing into ecstasy as the two heroes bodies quickly attuned with one another. While the sensation was completely foreign to her, as she'd never before been taken so fervently, she could only crave more of this surprisingly pleasurable pain which she'd merely had just a taste of.

Completely enveloped by her molten depths, Ben paused a moment and opened his eyes to look down at his wife, who was now writhing with want beneath him. He was almost taken aback in amazement. She… _enjoyed_ this.

"M-more," she panted in desperation.

A crooked grin crossed his lips as he drew his hips back and drove into her even harder. He found incredible pleasure in observing the bittersweet agony on her face as his pace quickened.

Evelyn began to see stars as he plunged himself into her, deeper and harder with every stroke. She felt a knot of desire intensifying deep within and she clamped down on him tighter as her climax neared.

"Gods!" she moaned. "B-Ben…"

Her vision now blurred, she closed her eyes, finding herself driven even more wild by her other now elevated senses: the smell of his sweat… the sounds of his body crashing against hers… and the feeling of his hands holding her firmly in place.

"Tan rus, meimi," he grunted. "Ai tan!"

His words began tipping her over the edge and she knew she couldn't take much more. Her insides began to quake around him and she instinctively arched into him as much as she could while being pinned down.

He moved his hand from her knee to her hip, his fingers biting into the sensitive flesh as he seemingly held on for dear life, trying to stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm.

The sensation jolted Evelyn to her peak, and she cried out frantically to the gods as she wave after wave of sheer pleasure washed over her.

The pulsating within her set Ben skyrocketing to his end. He could no more stop this than he could stop the world from spinning. He moved his hand from her hip to cradle the back of her head, weaving his fingers into her hair and gripping as he pulled firmly enough to expose her neck. Leaning forward to trail heated kisses down the side of her throat, Ben gently bit down, causing Evelyn to gasp and tense around him as he came undone.

Evelyn's mouth hung agape as Ben buried his face in the crook of her neck, muffling the guttural growl that escaped him. Slowly, his body began to fall lax against hers as the pair lay breathless together.

After a few moments, Ben pushed himself up and rolled onto his back, bringing Evelyn onto his chest. The hands that were fiercely claiming her just minutes ago now gently stroked the side of her face as he kissed the top of her head.

She softly raised her hand from his chest, holding it out to him until he placed his hand against hers. Slowly, their fingers intertwined and she looked up at him with lazy eyes and smiled.

"Ben," she sighed.

"I'm sorry if that was a bit… _much_ , love." He chewed at his lip before continuing. "Perhaps the rum aboard this ship has driven me a bit nutty," he chuckled.

"Then you must remember to bring some of it home with us," Evelyn insisted as a blush spread across her cheeks.

Ben's eyes darted down to hers, his face masked with shock.

" _Curious_ though," she went on, feigning confusion under knitted brow. "I've not tasted a drop of spirits on your lips since we boarded."

They held a brief—almost challenging—stare, until they both broke out into laughter. A very relieved Ben pulled his wife in closer and covered them with the only blanket in the cabin.

"I've got you," he yawned.

"Hmm?" she murmured.

"It's what I told the deck hand when he asked if you needed help," he whispered.

Evelyn smiled softly and tucked her face under his chin. With the sun now teasing the horizon, both exhausted heroes drifted quickly off to sleep in each other's arms.

* * *

**A/N: I'm literally dancing about in my desk chair as I publish this long overdue chapter, not because it's the best I've written (which it definitely is not), but because I managed to finally finish a chapter. This story is so close to my heart, and I missed writing it so badly during my time away. I just could never bring myself to press on with it while my own personal life spun out of control. I did not want to rush it or give it anything less than my undivided attention. I'll be rusty for a while, I am sure, but what's most important is that my story is getting told once again. I only hope my readers are still enjoying it! If you have, please consider leaving a review. Thanks for reading!**

**Sending special thanks to my beta reader and friend, kiltsaresexy. I appreciate all of your help…and also all the dA links to saucy pictures of hot Dragon Age men! I also have to thank Bishou No Marina for inventing the awesome port language that the pirates in my story use!**


	5. Evidence and Illusion

It was dusk at Bowerstone Castle. A peaceful hush filled the air as the servants settled in their quarters, relieved of their daily duties. All of the visitors, petitioners, and lobbyists of the day had also finally dispersed.

Inside a guarded room at the end of a long hallway, Marina sat at Jack's bedside with his hand pressed between hers. He'd not yet woken from his fever-induced sleep despite the physician having done everything in his power to aid the young man over the course of the last week.

"This… _could_ take more time," Dr. Collins offered, almost apologetically as he packed his stethoscope back into his bag. "You should get some rest. We cannot have you falling ill, too."

"I won't," Marina sighed. She looked up at the doctor with bloodshot eyes. " _I_ wasn't the one locked in a death trap."

Dr. Collins could do little more than nod as he placed a hand on her shoulder sympathetically. It was growing late and he still had other patients to check on. He had exhausted every treatment option in his knowledge to try and bring Jack about. The day that the young man had been placed in his care, he immediately called in every favor he could. He was, after all, the royal physician, and he was not about to let the brother of the Prince's lover die without a fight. He even had some of the less traditional, homeopathic physicians from near and far summoned in order to investigate alternative treatments, yet nothing had produced any promising results. All he could do now was all that anyone could: watch and wait.

Marina focused her attention back to her brother as the doctor left the room. She desperately scanned his face for any possible signs of life. The man was as still as stone, breathing faintly through pale, parted lips. With one hand still clutching onto his, she reached up to touch him with the other, noticing some old bruises as she pushed back his hair. Her gaze dropped back down to his hand, and a lump swelled in her throat as she softly ran a finger over the scabs on his knuckles. The painful truth was written all over his body like bitter evidence. She wondered just how long he'd fought off the guards who beat him before succumbing to his illness, and then she feared that he may not have any fight left.

"Please," she whispered. " _Don't leave me._ "

Jack was the only relative she had left in the world. It was an agonizing fact that was only further validated when the man she loved so easily held her twin brother imprisoned. Now that man sat on the throne as Prince Regent, and without Evelyn there to reason with him—and overrule him when necessary—Marina could not have been more fearful of losing this last piece of what she held most dear in the world: _family_.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks just as she heard a gentle rap at the door. Quickly, she sniffled and wiped her face with the back of her hand. The knocking came again and she cleared her throat.

"Come in," she said weakly.

The door softly opened and Logan entered. He raised a defensive hand in the air before she could utter a word of protest, and he closed the door behind him. He glanced down at the comatose man and fumbled to find the right words, the room falling to a dead silence as he took a few cautious steps toward the woman he loved.

Marina snapped her focus back to her brother, unable to even look at Logan. His presence only served to make her heart ache that much more. She'd never questioned his love, even though he had never spoken the words. She never doubted his affections until now. Now she knew that he was a man capable of endangering someone he had known was precious to her without so much as a second thought. Who was in the room with her now? The man…or the monarch?

"Marina," he pleaded. "It is getting late. Let me take you back to our chambers."

She did not respond. She couldn't. His audacious request only showed her that he took this whole situation too lightly. Right now, she found it difficult to be in the same room with him, let alone share a bed.

"I know that right now you are angry with me," he admitted. "I can live with that. What I cannot and will not accept is losing you over—"

"Over _what_ , Logan?" Marina stood and turned to him, insomnia and sadness written all over her face. "Over the fact that you may have killed my brother?"

Her words pained him, but he had already anticipated her protest. It was the way she looked at him that he could never have prepared himself for. The way she regarded him now was the very same way his people did at the end of his reign. It was clear that, much like them, she could not accept that sometimes difficult—even heartbreaking—decisions had to be made. This situation was no different. If only she understood.

"No," he rejected the notion calmly, trying not to lose his composure as he grew dangerously close to boiling over. "You cannot possibly hold me solely responsible for this. You are in pain and your senses are not with you right now."

"Perhaps it was _before_ when my senses were skewed," she replied, her voice now shaking as her eyes welled up. "When I so blindly fell for a man who clearly could never…and _would_ never change."

"You are wrong," he seethed. "I care more than you know. I will stop at _nothing_ to protect you," he insisted. "You accepted me for the man that I am. The man that I have _always_ been. You do not get to turn your back on me now."

Marina turned back around to face her brother as tears began rolling down her cheeks. "If Jack wakes up—"

" _When_ he wakes," Logan corrected her.

"When my brother wakes up, and regains his strength…" She looked up at him over her shoulder. " _…we are leaving._ "

Logan's expression fell blank. The shock and pain of her statement left him in a furious state…and he could no longer suppress it. How dare she disrespect him and go on to add insult to injury by threatening to leave him? He could not bear the feeling of being pushed away and tossed to the wayside like an insignificant piece of rubbish. He turned on his heel and strode with heavy foot toward the exit and let himself out, slamming the door behind him. The sheer force with which he sent the door flying made the hinges screech as their breaking point was tested. The loud bang was sure to have startled the entire castle—if not all of Bowerstone—but he did not care. He needed to vent…to _hit_ something. Perhaps a trek through a hobbe-infested cave would prove to sate this overwhelming need, if only his sister had not left the kingdom in his hands.

Down the hall, Logan saw Jasper approaching. The Prince looked over at a grandfather clock in passing, confused. The butler was normally well off duty by this hour. He clasped his hands behind his back, gripping tightly in an effort to mask his frustration.

"Jasper." Logan acknowledged the man with a curt nod as the two finally met and stopped in front of one another.

"Your Highness." Jasper bowed his head. "I was wondering if I might speak with you in private. I apologize for the ill timing of my request, but it is…" The man paused uncertainly, seeming to choose his words with care. "…a matter of great importance and I am afraid it cannot wait."

Logan could sense the urgency in the butler's voice. Jasper was usually cordial and upbeat, but the man before him seemed downright perplexed over something. Part of him dreaded any more conflict on top of what he'd already been dealt this day, though the other part welcomed the distraction.

"Of course," Logan agreed, holding an arm out to direct Jasper ahead of him. "I was on my way to the study for a drink. We may speak in private there."

"Thank you, Sire," Jasper replied.

The two walked quietly toward the study, each of them weighted by their own pressing matters.

* * *

Aboard the Swift Bounty, the sun beamed through the porthole of Ben and Evelyn's cabin. Evelyn squinted as she woke, stretching her body within the embrace of Ben's arms.

Sensing her movement, Ben gripped her more tightly. "Grrr, no," he grumbled, eyes still closed. "No getting up yet, love."

A soft smile crossed her lips as she turned into him, placing a kiss on his cheek. It had truly been the perfect night, from the way he found her above deck to the way he seduced her below deck. As amazing as it all was, she could not forget the disturbing reason that sparked this whole voyage. By her count, they'd only have a few more days at most to prepare themselves before their arrival in Samarkand.

"Poor thing," she teased. "Sorry, but I'm afraid we must, darling." She shimmied out of his hold and sat up in the bed. "There is much to do."

"Hrrmmph," Ben growled, pulling the cover over his head. "Come back under here for just a few more minutes…" One of his hands reached out from under the cover.

Evelyn shook her head, chuckling. The man was irresistibly adorable…but she could not give in right now. "We'll have plenty of time for sleep later, Ben. We really need to devise a plan."

Ben pulled the blanket down, revealing his face as he looked up at his wife with a cheeky grin. "Who said anything about more _sleep_?"

She pressed her lips together in an attempt to stifle her bubbling laughter. " _Finn_ …" Her brow knitted as she performed a charade of sternness.

"Oh, alright," he sighed. "At least let me fetch us some breakfast first." He reached up, cupping the side of her face. "We haven't had a morning like this in what feels like a lifetime, Evie."

He was right. She couldn't remember the last time they'd been able to wake on their own to no official agenda or set schedule. She loved Bowerstone—it was her home and always had been—but getting away felt almost therapeutic. This period of time between their duties at the castle and their responsibility in Samarkand would be brief, and she agreed to savor it.

"Then it shall be breakfast in _bed_ today," she replied, pulling the covers back over Ben. She gave him a kiss before getting up to quickly dress, picking up the garments that had been scattered along the foot of the bed and floor below.

"Now, _General_ ," she addressed him with a sarcastic smile as she tossed her hair up into a crude bun, "I'll need you to hold down the fort while I embark on an urgent expedition to procure sustenance for us."

Ben rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, grinning back at her. "As my Queen commands."

Seeing him smile at her—even playing along with her—brought a warmth back into her heart that she'd not felt in some time. Her feelings for him had never faded, nor had the spark ever died, but all of the pressure she'd been under lately had robbed them of all romance…all spontaneity…all of the true love that should have flowed freely between them every time they were together. It was time to stop stressing what was beyond her control, and to start taking charge of what she could change.

Evelyn made her way out onto the main deck and sought out the only crew member she'd been able to communicate with since boarding: Lea, the ship's navigator. When she failed to locate the woman above deck, she nervously began making her way below, following the unfamiliar strong smell of spices that finally brought her to the galley.

When she arrived, it appeared that the crew had eaten and run off for the morning already, leaving behind two galley cooks to clean up the mess. Evelyn stood silent a moment, unsure of whether or not she was intruding and, if so, how she would explain herself. Rather than chance a misunderstanding, she decided it would be best to find Lea before helping herself to anything in the galley.

Evelyn took a few quiet steps backward and as she turned to leave, her shoulder bumped a hanging pot, accidentally knocking it off its hook. The cookware hit the floor with a loud clang behind her. She froze in her tracks, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut tightly in response.

"Eh!" exclaimed one of the cooks.

Evelyn turned to face them, but she was hopelessly at a loss for words. She'd heard Ben speaking a little of their language last night, but was admittedly too swept up in everything else he was doing to pay attention.

"Se fin temego?" the other cook asked her.

"Um," she mumbled, bringing her hands over her heart. "I'm sorry, I—"

The cooks were looking at her as if she had gone mad. This was not good. Why in the Void had she decided to run off without Ben? If only she could remember any of the words she'd learned…

" _Temego_?" the cook asked again, this time holding a fry pan up.

"Gods, I certainly hope you don't want to use that…on _me_ ," she stuttered. "Ok, wait," she said, placing a finger in the air.

Her gesture seemed to properly convey what she was saying to them, so she supposed it couldn't hurt to try and speak the few words she _could_ recall while pointing to herself to signal that she was merely hungry.

"Im se…" She paused, pointing at her stomach as she struggled to muster up another word. "…bais," she concluded with a nod, though her face was fixed with pure uncertainty.

The two cooks looked at each other, dumbfounded, before turning their attention back to the crazy woman in their workspace.

"Im se bais?" She repeated her words, hoping to the gods that she wasn't unknowingly threatening the lives of these men.

The cooks burst into laughter. Certainly not the result she'd hoped for.

"I'm just hungry," she sighed with disappointment, ready to give up on her 'expedition'.

"Then why did you tell them that you are an ass?" Lea inquired with amusement in her thick accent from behind Evelyn.

Evelyn whipped around, surprised yet utterly relieved. "Oh, Lea! Thank goodness. I was looking for you."

"And here I am," she replied with a smile.

"Please tell the men I meant no harm here. I was just trying to round up something for breakfast for myself and Ben. I didn't mean to—"

"You needn't worry, milady. We hold very little formality aboard this ship apart from ranks and orders." Lea turned her gaze to the cooks and with the tip of her chin, she sent them off. "Now," she continued as she led Evelyn toward the food store on the other side of the galley. "You are welcome to anything you see here, though I would strongly suggest avoiding the hardtack."

Evelyn peered into the open food store: a room no larger than one of her closets, set inside the hull of the ship. It was rather dark inside, and as she squinted to adjust her eyes, a revolting smell assaulted her nose.

"Gods!" Evelyn shouted from behind her hand which quickly came up to cover her nose and mouth. The source of the awful stench became apparent as Lea swung the door fully open and more light flooded in. She saw a crate full of hard, stale biscuits completely covered in mold, and if that wasn't enough, the communal rum barrel had sprung a leak, leaving the air thick with the heavy smell of fermentation. She could see now why Lea insisted that she not consume the hardtack. It made sense now. There was no such thing as larders, cold cellars or ice at sea. It was made quickly apparent that ships such as this one afforded its crew and passengers no luxuries when it came to dining.

"You, sit," Lea insisted, pointing at the bench outside where the crew would take their meals. "I can go in and get you what you need."

Evelyn could not be more thankful. She had certainly had enough of being sick to her stomach the day prior, when she and Ben boarded…and that thought suddenly reminded her of something.

"Lea, I wanted to thank you," she spoke to the other woman from outside the food store where she sat, running her fingers over the intricately woven accessory on her wrist. "If you hadn't given me this bracelet, I might still be very sick."

The woman emerged with a small basket containing some crackers, cured meats, and dried fruit. She placed the food down on the bench beside Evelyn and held out a hand to her. Confused, Evelyn looked up at her. Lea reached her hand down further, palm side up, raised her brows and nodded. Comprehending, Evelyn placed her hand in the navigator's and stood up.

"This was not me, milady," Lea stated as she waved her free hand over Evelyn's wrist. "Things are not always what they seem." Her hand moved away, revealing that the bracelet was now gone. "You must know this, after all the things _you_ have seen. Sometimes these things are nothing more than illusion."

Evelyn was dumbfounded. Her jaw fell slack and she looked down at her now-bare wrist. At first, she wondered if the woman knew that she'd been having visions of black wolves, and if so, _how_? But then an even more pressing fear surfaced.

"Where did it go?" Evelyn asked in a panic. "Without it, I'll be—"

"You will be just as you were when you believed you had it," the older woman insisted. "The mind is a powerful thing. The bracelet was merely an illusion to show you this."

"It was…never there." Evelyn concluded, trying to convince herself.

"It was never there," Lea assured her. "The next time you fear the unknown, just remember this."

Evelyn reached down to pick up the basket of food and turned back to Lea, unsure of whether to thank her for the enlightenment or hold her suspect for tricking her. Deep down, though, she knew the other woman meant her no harm, but the whole thing still shook her a little. Did Lea truly know about the frightening visions she'd been having or was it mere coincidence?

"Thank you, Lea," Evelyn shook the other woman's hand, giving a respectful nod before turning to leave.

When Evelyn returned to Ben with their breakfast, she found him fast asleep on his stomach, face down on the pillow with his feet dangling off the foot of the bed. A smile spread across her face. Taking care to be quiet, she gently closed the door, put the basket down, and began tiptoeing toward him.

When she reached the side of the bed and slowly leaned over to try and goose the man, an arm darted out from under the covers and she was suddenly hooked down into bed with him.

"Do you fancy yourself an _assassin_ , love?" Ben teased as he rolled onto his back, snaking his arms around his new captive.

Evelyn yelped in surprise, but quickly regained her composure enough to take control of the situation. "Sleeping on the job, General?" She tutted softly and sat up on top of him, touching a finger to her chin. "I wonder…just what _is_ the punishment for such an offense?"

With lightning speed, he turned the tables, flipping over and pinning her beneath him. "We're at _sea_ now, sweetheart…and I'm afraid laws don't float here." He paused, flashing her a wicked grin. "But I'd be curious to see your efforts in administrating said punishment…just for fun."

"Ben," she giggled as he began kissing the side of her neck, his stubble tickling her sensitive skin almost torturously. "I'm _starving_!" she pleaded between uncontrollable cackles.

Ben moved in to kiss her and stopped just shy of her lips. "Very well," he conceded, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips before sitting up with her. "I can't allow my _finnasa_ to starve." His hand trailed down the side of her waist before meeting her backside with a firm grab. "I'd sure miss this if you did."

With a playful nudge, Evelyn pushed Ben back enough to get up and bring the basket of food back over to him. "I present to you the spoils of my embarrassment," she told him.

"Of your…what in the Void does that mean, Evie?" he asked her with a perplexed look as he reached for a piece of dried meat and began chewing on it.

She shook her head, laughing to herself. "I'm certain I will _never_ hear the end of it if I tell you, but since I already began, here goes. It all started when I stumbled into the galley below deck…"

* * *

**A/N: I could not publish this chapter without thanking: Bishou no Marina, who put her "Miyagi glasses" back on (after such a long hiatus for us both) and really helped me on this one, not to mention she invented the port language that you see in this story! And Kiltsaresexy, who took the time to read through the chapter for me and give me her feedback and encouragement, despite having a rather tight schedule lately. Thank you ladies!**


	6. Through the Darkness

" _Lansi deo_!" shouted a deckhand aboard the Swift Bounty as it prepared to make port in Fairwinds. Evelyn threw her arms up over her head and stretched her aching back from under the covers. Sleeping on such a hard, lumpy bed for the past week had proved to do quite a number on her body, so when she heard the clang of the ship's bell along with the shouting and shuffling on deck, a spark of excitement ran through her. They'd arrived, _at last_.

With their travel packs slung over their shoulders, Evelyn and Ben waited on the starboard side of the ship, near the gangway. Through the thick, gray fog, the desert land of Samarkand revealed itself as they grew nearer. After her travels to Aurora, Evelyn had expected to see golden sand and radiant sunlight, but much to her confusion, the sand looked more like dull ash and the sky had been completely swallowed by dark clouds. Strange, she found them, as they did not move or rain. They were—much as the land they covered had appeared—lifeless.

"Are we ahead of schedule?" Evelyn asked Ben, raising a brow curiously.

"Afraid not, love," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"It just…feels as if it's still night. I thought maybe we were arriving early," she sighed.

The crew made great haste to ready the shipments for their delivery, and what had been order now seemed to degenerate into chaos. The captain shouted down from the helm, " _Tanrus, babaisoani!_ " and the crew scuffled about even more rapidly, colliding into one another here and there.

Lea approached Evelyn and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze to gain her attention. When Evelyn turned around, Lea touched her wrist and urged, "You must _not_ forget."

Evelyn pondered the woman's words only a few moments before realizing. She was referring to the illusion of the bracelet she had gifted her. "I won't ever forget, Lea," she assured the woman with a smile.

Lea's facial expression remained severe as she shifted her gaze to the shore ahead. "The air has turned foul here." Her eyes flitted back to meet Evelyn's. "You should not linger too long."

Evelyn's smile faded and her eyes grew wide as she gave the woman a silent nod.

The deck hands began mooring the ship to the wooden pylons of the dock with precision and speed. With everything secured, the gangplank was extended and Ben and Evelyn were the first to disembark. The two heroes had taken great care to conceal their identities by packing their weapons away and dressing as the ship's crew: tattered gray pants tucked into their boots, stained linen shirts with laces untied, and over-jackets of faded red, partially unbuttoned. Should they need to defend themselves, Evelyn's Will could be called upon at any time…and Ben had tucked a small pistol into his boot for insurance.

They stood at the dock, waiting. Ben had suggested that they might remain better hidden should they make their way into town alongside the sailors who would be taking their shore leave. Amid the hustle and bustle, Ben turned to her, scooped her ponytail into the hollow of a dusty leather cap, and snugged it down securely onto her head with a look of concern in his eyes. He knew that women were not treated well in this country. They were bought and sold, then discarded when their usefulness ran out. Being here again sent a twinge of unease up his spine, not only because the land was now unrecognizably dark, but because of the man he had been when last he was here.

" _Maekso pa rus!_ " barked the Quartermaster of the Swift Bounty before turning back to his buyer with the ship's manifest and collecting his payment.

Ben's scrutinized the scene with his hands on his hips, taking care to keep his confusion masked. He had never seen a ship offload so haphazardly. On that note, he'd also never seen a Quartermaster that did not even attempt to haggle a price. Usually, a ship carrying supplies could always get a little more out of a buyer by telling them of incidents that made their journey more costly or difficult, or perhaps the higher costs of the cargo from the countries they came from. All of this seemed…off, but it wasn't until not a single crewman stayed behind to go drink and whore that Ben's guard shot up.

"We'd better get going now," he calmly suggested to Evelyn.

"What happened to waiting for—"

"They're not coming," he interjected in a hushed tone. When he saw the evidence of worry on her face, however, he followed up with, "Probably just a time crunch. We'll be fine without them."

As Ben and Evelyn made their way up the path and further inland, the air grew thick with the smell of decomposing plant matter. Limp piles of rotting vegetation lay in sun-starved heaps in the dirt. The plants that had died higher off the ground were nothing more than desiccated husks. Looking at one another, the two Heroes prepared to enter the city the only way one could by shore: the slums.

The stench of concentrated excrement, body odor and gangrene smacked them in the face as they made their way past tents and run-down huts. It was enough to make one gag—Evelyn nearly retched until Ben steadied her by the shoulder much in the same way a man would to his drunken fellow.

"Think of something else," he whispered.

The sights and smells were a horrific experience for them both. People clearly could not bathe, as water was a precious commodity reserved for the wealthy here. The sick were left to disease and the injured were left with festering wounds. They had all been left to die. Yet, despite all of their inevitable fates under these harsh conditions, there was surprisingly no fighting. They'd even turned one of their huts into a makeshift clinic. Evelyn was not sure if they had any real capacity to heal or save lives, but the rickety structure served as a beacon of hope regardless. Instead of tearing one another apart and stealing to survive, these people had banded together. Suddenly the awful smell became a mere backdrop to a much larger picture.

It was hard for both Ben and Evelyn to walk past these people, some crying out for food, some pleading for their lives. These were by far the worst conditions they'd ever seen, but saving these people would not be possible without first confronting their King…and that could not take place until they safely extracted Omari from his prison.

After a short while, the cries of the people began to fade into the distance and the stench of death finally dissipated. They approached the top of a hill, looking out over the capital city of Zahadar. The city appeared dark, save for the torchlight scattered throughout. Seated in its center, the palace towered above all. With its sharp, pointed steeples that seemed more like instruments of intimidation than functional structures, the massive fortress was both a marvel and a disgrace to the land.

The path which they'd taken had now led to a fork, forcing them to perform a quick map check.

"Both ways take us to the other side of the city, though I strongly suggest we bear right," he said in a low tone. "It might be a bit longer, but we'd be traveling _around_ the capital." He pointed to the alternate path on the map. "Whereas this way would lead us straight into its belly."

Evelyn studied the map another moment before looking up at Zahadar. The city was eerily quiet, and there were bound to be patrols roving about. Her number one priority was finding Lailah in order to save Omari, and she could do none of those things if she were discovered along the way.

"Agreed," she said, folding the map and tucking it back into her pack. She wriggled under the weight of her baggage as she slid her arm back through its strap. She was as strong as any Hero could be, but even Heroes could be depleted by fatigue and dehydration.

Ben looked down at her, his eyes full of regret. Her lips were cracked, her skin pale, and her posture was weakening. Relieving her of the burden on her back was not an option since they could not break from their assumed identities as men. Now that they had reached the outskirts of the city, they were definitely not safe from the prying eyes of Bakari's soldiers and spies. He wanted to steady her—to hold her—and it killed him to have to refrain.

"Nothing's to stop a sailor if he were to, say, take the arm of his drunken mate," Ben suggested. "All you'd have to do is act the part, love," he softly whispered, inching closer.

"I'm alright," she assured him. The offer was both incredibly sweet and tempting, but Evelyn knew her limits, and they'd not yet been reached. She remained motivated by her goal and drew further motivation from what they'd seen on their journey inland. Once Omari was safe… _Bakari would pay_.

* * *

After a few hours of hiking around the city borders, Ben and Evelyn finally arrived at the other side of Zahadar, finding more than just one winding path. Any one of them could have been the one which lie 'just outside the city' as Reaver instructed them.

"Curses," Evelyn muttered, hunching forward with her hands pressed to her knees as she heaved a breath. She knew she had little energy left to draw from, and that soon her legs would surely give way to exhaustion. "If we choose wrong…" She looked up at Ben and shook her head with doubt.

Meanwhile, Ben methodically paced back and forth, taking quick survey of each trail opening. "We won't," he concluded. "Look here at the overgrowth," he said, beckoning her to him. The trail before him was barely visible, almost completely obscured by dried stalks and an encroaching ironwood. "The other paths are too fresh, whereas this one…" He pushed down the tall overgrowth with his foot, revealing the crude path that it hid. "This one's not been walked for decades, if not longer."

She quickly pulled her map back out, looking for the 'X' which Reaver scrawled. It was extremely difficult to see anything now. Samarkand may have been dark during daylight hours, but at night, it was nearly pitch black. If not for the sparse moonlight that filtered down through the thick, ever-present cloud ceiling, she and Ben would have been traveling blind.

Straining her eyes, Evelyn finally located Reaver's markings on the map and she looked up with a sigh of relief. Ben was absolutely right. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. There was no way in the Void that that man wanted to make it easy to find any property of his…unless he wanted you to.

"Brilliant, Ben!" she praised him, taking care to speak softly.

Evelyn approached the trail and reached for her pocket knife. As she unfolded the blade from its handle, Ben reached across to stay her arm.

"Careful, love," he whispered. "We need to leave all of this intact or risk being sniffed out."

Evelyn bit down on her lip, quickly collapsing the knife and putting it in her back pocket. "Good point," she said. "This should be interesting."

The hike up to the hidden estate was not as long as it was disorienting. Without the help of the stars, light, or a visible path, they both used their senses and best judgment to cut through the wilderness. All of the sudden, Ben froze in his tracks. Evelyn stopped, trying to look past him to see what was in his way.

"Ben? What's the—"

Then she saw it. The thick, inky black mist, swirling around her husband. She'd seen something like this before in Aurora. It was where she had hallucinated Walter…where she had been blinded. Ben must have walked right into it. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest.

"Stop!" Ben shouted.

"Shhh!" Evelyn hushed him. "Someone will—"

"Stop looking at me like that," he pleaded, now breathing rapidly.

Then it hit her. He was under its influence now, seeing whatever it wanted him to. She tried pushing him from the shadowy pocket, but it latched onto him and swirled around his body wherever she moved him.

"Don't come any closer," he commanded, looking all around him as if surrounded.

A pit formed in Evelyn's stomach as she froze in place. If she got too close, she might get caught in the crossfire between Ben and his demons. She knew he could break free from this. He had to.

Ben spun around erratically, putting his hands up defensively. "I-I didn't know."

Evelyn was confounded by his words, yet she knew exactly what was happening. The darkness always preyed on your deepest regrets, guilt and fears.

"No!" he cried out as he fell onto his back. "I've made my peace!"

Evelyn tried to talk him through it. "Fight it, Ben."

"You have to go. Go and find _your_ peace! All of you!" Ben stood and drew two imaginary pistols from his hips and pointed them out to either side of him.

She knew he probably could not hear her, but she did not give up. "You can do this. It's the only way out. It isn't real," she instructed him.

"Don't make me," he begged, just before he began shoving invisible opponents away from him in rapid succession. "I'm sorry," Ben growled as he began firing his imagined weapons in all directions. "I'm sorry!" he cried out, his voice laced with pain.

Suddenly, the shadows dissipated into thin air, leaving Ben breathless and disoriented.

"I'm so sorry." Ben stood looking at his empty hands, and then all around him, finally locking his eyes on Evelyn.

"Ben," she sighed, utterly relieved that he'd been able to break free. "It's alright now." She dropped her pack on the ground and threw her arms around him. She did not care who might see them. At this point, she felt they were far enough from the city and main road to drop the act, though if anyone _did_ dare to threaten them, she would take no issue in fulfilling their death wishes accordingly.

"Evie," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her so tightly it was as if his life depended on it. "I'm so sorry, love."

Evelyn leaned back, studying his face. She had no idea why he'd be apologizing to her. "You don't have anything to be sorry about, Ben."

Ben shook his head. "I have everything to be sorry about. I didn't tell you because…I _couldn't_."

"What happened in the darkness just now?" she asked.

"It was so long ago, Evie. It's a part of my life I'd cast off and buried…until it found me again." He took a long breath, preparing himself. "They were all slaves. Surrounding me." His brow knitted as he recalled further details. "There were men and women…and among them, children. They were all former cargo aboard the slave ships that employed me." He gulped deeply. His voice was thick with shame. "I've never forgotten their eyes. Full of desperation and sorrow. The slavers would chain them together so that none could throw themselves overboard without taking the rest. No one ever did, even though they were all flea-bitten and starving where we kept them below deck. Even though they knew they'd be destined for lives of pain and suffering."

He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose as he drew in a shaky breath.

Evelyn stood frozen, jaw agape and stomach twisted. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but she was still struggling to process what he'd just told her. She thought she had known _everything_ about the man she joined lives with, and while this _was_ a horrible recollection of his past, she still felt the need to help him through it.

"I'm still here," she said, soothingly. Taking his hand in hers, she encouraged him to continue. "What happened after the ships?"

"In the darkness, I saw their eyes first. Then as they began closing in on me, I saw what they'd become after I delivered them to their fates. Chains hung from their limbs and inky black fluid spewed from their lashings. I saw the women being raped by shadow creatures. I saw the men being worked to death. And the…" He paused, on the verge of tears. "The children," he went on, his voice cracking. "They screamed. They screamed for all of the pain and loss they suffered during their short lives. For the parents they were ripped from. I didn't know. I only saw one side of their journey. I was young and stupid," he pleaded.

Evelyn gave his hand a tight squeeze, doing her very best to ward off her own tears. She could certainly not hold her husband accountable for what he'd done during his younger years, but hearing such harsh truths was still deeply saddening. "What happened next?" she gently coaxed him.

"I pulled my guns on them. I tried to warn them away…but they kept coming. They kept saying 'there is no peace' and kept coming. I had no choice," he said reluctantly. "I had to kill them all. Even the ch-children," he stuttered, dropping his head into his hands. His fingers clenched fistfuls of his hair.

Evelyn pulled him into her embrace and whispered into his ear. "It's okay now, Ben. You came back to me and I thank the Light that you did." She kissed him on the cheek before reciting the same words he had used to profess his love to her aboard the Swift Bounty. "Im se simma."

The phrase hit him profoundly. She had remembered his words. He was so startled by this act of unconditional love and acceptance that he'd stopped crying and took her face in his hands. "I love you… _so much_ ," he replied, placing a kiss on her forehead before bringing her into his arms. He rest his chin on top of her head. "That man is _dead_ , Evie."

Evelyn tried to pull back and look into his eyes, but he held her close and didn't let go. "No," she spoke against his chest. "That man made you the man you are today. I would never let you kill him," she said. Ben finally relaxed and she backed out from under his chin to look up at him. "We've all made mistakes," she admitted, a glint of regret crossing her eyes. "You are not alone."

"You're my world," he vowed, pressing his lips to hers.

Evelyn softly hummed with satisfaction as she swayed with fatigue. Ben steadied her, insisting, "Come on, sweetheart. We need to move on. You need your rest."

A few hundred paces up the hill, they finally arrived at Reaver's estate. Through the black iron gates, they found the garden, which might have been lush and verdant at one time, but now resembled a graveyard more than anything else. Once-proud monuments of his likeness were now reduced to rubble. Finding the hidden key to the estate may prove more difficult than they thought.

"I sure hope the hiding place has not been ransacked," she said as they began looking around.

A few minutes into their search, Ben found a large stone bench with an inscription that he could not decipher in the dark. "Over here, Evie," he called out to her. His voice was still hoarse, but he seemed to be feeling a bit better. "I think this might be it."

Evelyn walked over and crouched down beside him, turning her hand palm-up and cautiously summoning a small ball of flame. She moved her hand closer to the bench, illuminating the unmistakable engraving of a guild seal—the mark of a _Hero_. She thought back to Reaver's instructions: _The only bench that looks familiar to both of you…_ Her brow pinched together and her eyes slashed over to Ben. "I don't…" She paused, shaking her head. "Why would _this_ be _here_?"

Ben had known of Reaver's Heroic status for some time, but opted to remain vague in his response. This would certainly be a conversation better suited for another time, and ideally one she should have with Reaver herself. "Perhaps the property once belonged to a Hero," he said noncommittally. "Now, let's see…" He began feeling around underneath and found a heavy rock lodged into the ground. Digging the rock from its place revealed a small hole in the ground that held a single key. "Ah! There we have it." He looped a finger through the black cord which was tied around the key and pulled it from its place, holding it up for Evelyn to see.

"Thank the Light," she sighed in relief.

They made their way inside the dark, empty house and Ben closed the door behind them, locking it securely. He helped remove her travel pack before taking off his own and lowering both to the floor.

Evelyn was thankful for all of the thick, heavy window coverings that would conceal the light inside and out. She found and lit a few oil lamps before passing one to Ben, and they both began looking around the foyer. All of the furniture was still draped in thick, protective cloth and the tiny dust particles in the air appeared to shimmer in the flickering light. The appearance of the place left her feeling very unsettled. It looked eerily similar to her mother's Sanctuary before it was restored and reclaimed as her own.

"If only Jasper were here," she muttered under her breath as she continued to glance around the room with uncertainty. Her oldest and most trusted advisor had the rare gift of making even the most inhospitable places feel like home.

"We'll be back home before you know it, love," Ben assured her. "This place may be the worse for wear, but it'll keep us safe."

Exhaustion set in and Evelyn's legs began to buckle. Ben quickly helped her over to a nearby chaise, supporting her with one arm as he pulled its protective cloth away with the other.

"Shouldn't we find a bedroom?" she asked, yawning as she lay back into the chair. The plushness of it was a pure ecstasy she'd not felt since being back home.

Ben undressed her, relieving her from the ratty sailor garb she'd been forced to wear. He removed his jacket and covered her with it before undressing himself. "Not tonight, sweetheart. We've done enough exploring."

He slithered in behind her, letting one leg drape off the side of the chaise. His frame was simply too large for it. She rolled into him, resting her head under his chin, and together they drifted to sleep almost instantly.

* * *

**Author's Note: I am so overjoyed to be able to finally be telling this story. I've had it outlined and in my head for the past year, and after having suffered the worst case of writer's block in my life, I am grateful to be back to writing and publishing again. This story is so very close to my heart for so many reasons. If you enjoy the story, please show it some support by way of reviews, faves and follows. They motivate and inspire me more than I can say!**

**A very special thank you to Bishou no Marina, my beta reader who didn't even let being sick keep her from helping me polish and publish this. I must also thank her for helping me again with the pirate language that is sprinkled throughout. _Marina se ima coihe!_**


	7. Strange Allies

Evelyn opened her eyes and sat up to find herself lying in a bed of snow. She turned a hand up, looking into her palm as she caught the large flakes that floated down from the sky. She watched them as they melted against her skin, but felt nothing. Her breath formed clouds of fog as she exhaled, utterly confused as to how she had woken in this place.

She stood up, brushing the snow off to discover that she was wearing her old adventuring clothes. Her brow knitted as she started taking inventory from her toes on up: beaten brown boots, striped stockings, black shorts, her old linen top. She hadn't worn these since before her accident…when they'd gotten _destroyed_ by the explosion that took her unborn child from her.

Her hands shot up to her head, finding the prominent center point of the royal crown. Eyes widening, she looked around, only to find endless mountains of snow. It was eerily quiet. All that she heard over the gentle swish of snow on the wind was the pounding of her own heart.

Something snarled behind her. She whipped around so quickly that the ends of her hair stung her face, but she could see nothing of note except for the rocky black terrain which peeked out from under the blanket of white that covered the land.

_I've been here before…_

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt strange—as if she were reliving a moment from her past. She strained to take a few steps forward, but her feet felt unnaturally heavy and immovable. Panic began setting in. Was this some kind of magic?

She looked to her right, raising her chin to the sky as her eyes traced a path up to the mountain's peak. When she turned her head to the left, she found a steep cliff which overlooked a deep ditch.

She heard a low growl and her attention snapped to the desolate path before her. Her breathing grew rapid and her pulse raced. Then she heard it: the unmistakable sound of snow crunching beneath footpads as something approached from behind her.

_It can't be…_

But it was. She knew, yet she could not bring herself to turn and face it. Her body froze in place as her eyes flitted up to see a rickety wood planked bridge in the distance. This was Mistpeak, and the creature behind her was…

The pack of black wolves jumped out of the shadows, surrounding her as suddenly as they had appeared. Their eyes burned with rage and their teeth dripped with saliva in anticipation of their feast. She looked down at her feet, buried in the snow, yet unable to feel the chill of it. She grabbed her wrist, running her thumb over the top of it.

 _It isn't real…_ she thought. _They are not real._

Evelyn turned her gaze to the leader of the pack, who stood significantly taller than the rest. Fear coursed through her veins as she forced herself to look it in the eyes. The wolf took two steps toward her, turned its nose to the sky and let out a bloodcurdling howl. The pack surrounding her followed suit, unleashing their own howls, shaking her to the ground.

They slowly closed in, taunting her, tormenting her. Guilt and sadness rose up from her belly; her face flushed with the awful heat they brought with them. "I'm sorry," she pleaded. "But you gave me no choice."

The Alpha wolf paced back and forth, her pace quickening the more Evelyn spoke. She began to feel a chill creeping up her legs.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she wept. "I…I loved you!"

At this, the Alpha wolf roared with unleashed fury, and her pack moved in for the kill.

"It's not real!" Evelyn blurted a desperate prayer. "Light help me."

…But her prayers went unanswered. She knew it the moment she felt their sharp teeth piercing her flesh. Searing pain cut like tiny knives all over her arms and legs. She cried out, but she was unable to hear her own shrieks of pain and fear. The louder she tried to scream, the more she lost her voice. She watched in horror as blood spilled from her limbs, leaving bright crimson streaks in the snow around her.

She couldn't die here. Not like this. She began summoning forth all of her Will, which—to her utter shock—was somehow limited to what it had been on that fateful day years ago when she'd first traveled through Mistpeak, just after her awakening. She focused intensely despite the pain, sending out a small ring of fire which knocked the wolves away. Their yelps pierced her ears and her heart as they burned.

Evelyn lay shaking in her own pool of blood on the ground, overcome with the pain from her open wounds as well as the aching of her heart. Fear only compounded her inability to move, and she worried that more wolves might be coming for her. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing to be anywhere else. Her pent-up emotions finally found their release as she let her mouth fall open to let out a powerful cry from deep within herself. Whatever this place truly was, she was stuck here…alone.

The wind carried the faint sound of a disembodied voice, and Evelyn opened her eyes.

_"Hhhhhhhear me."_

The fleeting words came across breathy and wispy, yet they gripped her like a life belt in a vast ocean. Before her, out of thin air, an ethereal figure materialized. It was a woman, fair as the snow that surrounded her. She radiated such light that all that Evelyn could discern when looking upon her face was that the woman was trying to speak.

Evelyn shook her head in disbelief as she looked the figure up and down. She was tall and slender, clothed in white. The otherworldly figure tried to reach for her but stopped short, abruptly held back by something. Evelyn's eyes widened as the woman's long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and a pair of majestic white wings flourished behind her. The downy feathers of the phantom wings danced in the wind, one of them flitting down into Evelyn's hand. She looked down at the feather, and back up at the figure.

"M-Mother?" she asked, holding the feather against her chest.

She knew those wings to be the mark of a Hero, but not just any Hero. Only the most powerful would receive their wings—be they born of benevolence or evil—and she immediately thought of her mother.

The figure pointed to herself and then to her right, directing Evelyn's attention to a snow-covered pathway. She stood up, realizing that this woman knew the way out.

"Please!" Evelyn cried out. "Show me."

The figure did not react or respond, so Evelyn looked at her and nodded. The woman retracted her wings and began to lead the way. Evelyn followed her closely as her blood dotted the snow behind her.

They stopped in front of the Demon Door that Evelyn knew so very well. It had become a safe haven for her. A place where hope and love had been restored to her life. Even though she'd opened this passageway in the waking realm, the stone face appeared to still be untouched here. She knew that this was her way out, but she was not sure how to open it without Ben.

The ethereal woman placed her hand against the stone face of the demon door, looking back at Evelyn. Her mouth opened, and while no words had come out, Evelyn felt a profound and instant connection to her. She felt peace washing over her as she became enveloped in the strange light that radiated from the woman's fair skin. Warmth spread throughout Evelyn's body; the kind she'd only before felt in the embrace of true love.

The stone face split in half, opening itself to reveal the glowing portal it guarded. Evelyn's heart swelled with emotion. She didn't know why, but it broke her heart to leave this woman. Through the tears that had begun to well up in her eyes, she saw the figure extending a hand to her.

"Thank you," Evelyn said as she took the woman's hand and allowed herself to be guided into the portal.

* * *

Evelyn shot up from the chaise lounge, jolting Ben awake along with her. She brought a hand up to scratch her head, still disoriented.

"Evie?" Ben placed his hand on her leg, squeezing gently. "What's the matter?"

"I…" Evelyn looked around the room with a wrinkle in her brow. "I was in Mistpeak. I could swear by the gods…" She quickly remembered something and turned her arms up in front of her, scanning them fervently. "I _felt_ them, Ben."

From where he sat behind her, Ben slipped his arms around her and swept his fingertips across her forearms. "Felt what, love?"

Evelyn drew in a deep breath, allowing herself to sink into his tightening embrace as she exhaled. "Just a crazy dream," she replied. "I'm alright now."

Her words were reassuring enough to him, though she could not fully convince herself that what she'd seen and felt was all just the product of a vivid dream. Even if there was any validity to her experience, it wasn't as if she could even begin to explain it to Ben when she, herself, could not understand it.

She looked over at the grandfather clock which stood stalled in the foyer of the estate. "Gods, what time is it?" she asked Ben in a panic as she rushed over to one of the fully draped windows.

Ben stretched his arms in the air before reaching down to retrieve his coat from the floor. He located his pocket watch and flipped it open, squinting to see the time through the blinding light Evelyn let through the curtain.

"We've still a few hours until we're to meet your new friend," he replied.

"Good," she said, relieved. "Because I need to run my plan by you." She twiddled her fingers together nervously as she turned from the window and started walking toward him. "And you might not like it at first, but—"

Ben opened his mouth, but Evelyn placed a finger over his lips and raised her brows in a silent plea. "But it _is_ an infallible plan. Just hear me out…"

* * *

"No!" Ben hollered from inside the bedchamber where he and Evelyn had been getting ready. She had just emerged from the washroom, her hair flowing down the top half of her body in big, silky waves. Her sheer, burnt orange dress delicately draped her body while still hugging every curve. She fumbled with the clasp of a jade-embellished bracelet, looking up at one very flabbergasted Ben.

"We'll find another way. You're my _wife_ , not a bleeding desert whore!" he protested.

"So you're saying I look the part?" she responded with a playful smile in an attempt to diffuse him.

"This isn't funny, Evie. You don't know how they treat women in this country. You'd be much safer traveling as a sailor," he insisted.

"And just how would two sailors gain access to the royal palace, I wonder?" she asked him. "Do you really want to rely on dumb luck or brute force to get us inside, Ben? Because _that_ seems far more dangerous to me."

He looked her up and down, his face lined with worry. "This is wrong." He shook his head.

"You will be by my side the whole time," she assured him. "We only have to keep this up long enough to gain entry."

"You want me to stand at your side as your owner," he argued, his voice laced with disgust. "The very thought of going about as a filthy slave smuggler turns my stomach."

She walked up to him, cupping his face in her hands as she looked into his eyes. "Ben, you and I both know that is _not_ who you really are."

His brow furrowed as he placed his hands around her wrists, kissing the inside of one of her palms. "You're asking me to try and _sell_ you, Evie."

"You only need act as if that is your intention, and only until we get inside."

He sighed as he wove his fingers up through her hair, cradling the back of her head. "If anyone threatens you…I don't care who it is. It could be the sodding King himself. _I'll kill them_."

"I know you will," she whispered against his lips before moving in to kiss him.

The two Heroes finished suiting up in accordance with the parts they would be playing. Evelyn buckled her sandals and secured a chain of gold medallions around her waist, locking eyes with Ben as he holstered two pistols and hid another inside his boot. The silence in the room was almost deafening.

Evelyn's mind was swirling with awful visions of Omari, beaten and barely clinging to life, while Ben's was doubly tortured by the idea of placing his wife in harm's way while under the guise of a slave trader—a part of his past that had just resurfaced during their travels.

As they made their way out, Ben stopped her at the door, grabbing her by the wrist and spinning her back around to face him. He opened his mouth, searching for the right thing to say as his eyes flitted desperately between each of hers. He shifted his gaze to her exposed skin, then back to her face again, gulping deeply as his expression shifted from worry to one of sheer determination.

"Time to teach this arsehole a lesson," he growled.

"I couldn't agree more," she replied.

* * *

"Mmm," the palace guard grunted, scratching his chin as he inspected the goods before him.

Evelyn took a few steps closer, the medallions around her waist jingling with the sway of her hips. She twirled a finger into the waves of her hair and looked at the guard with smoldering eyes.

" _E finna bais_?" he asked Ben, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to see more of her.

Ben's jaw clenched as he fought to maintain a neutral expression. Fueled by anger, his tone was harsh, serving to better propagate his act. " _Bokne siita_ ," he ordered Evelyn, twirling his finger in the air to convey the meaning of his demand.

Evelyn slowly turned until she stood facing Ben with her back to the guard. A momentary glance was exchanged before she quickly averted her eyes, afraid that she might break his composure. She reached behind her head, sweeping her hair over the front of her left shoulder as she peeked back at the guard over her right.

The guard licked his lips as he studied her curves.

Ben's trigger finger itched for his concealed weapon. His fist began to tighten, and he cleared his throat, quickly regaining himself before speaking again. " _Sim se chioi?_ " he asked.

The guard looked up at Ben. A devilish smile spread across his lips as he nodded deeply in approval.

" _Zuk_." Ben grabbed her swiftly by the arm, relieved to be done with showing her off like some sort of perverted bait.

Before Ben could get past the main guard, another guardsmen quickly approached from inside the palace, clearly interested in what was going on. This one looked much different from the behemoths that stood post outside. He was significantly smaller, and unlike them, he wore no helm. He exchanged a few words with the other guard, after which both men nodded in agreement.

The main guard stepped aside and pointed them toward the entrance of the palace. " _Rusne pa_ _Vizier Farik_." He held a hand out, gesturing to the other man.

"I take you," the smaller guard told them in broken English.

Ben found it rather odd for someone of such low rank to be educated enough to know more than his native language, but he saw no threat in it, so he continued to follow the man's lead.

Once inside, Ben and Evelyn discreetly surveyed the layout. From here onward, there would be no set plan. They would have to play the rest by ear. They began making their way down a large hallway lined with golden statues and stone sculptures beneath steep ceilings, and when they reached the middle, their escort abruptly stopped and turned to face them.

"I…know you," he said, straining to pronounce the unfamiliar words.

Ben pushed the side of his coat back, resting his hand over the pistol on his hip. He slowly took a step in front of Evelyn and gave the man a challenging glare.

"Nai," he pled quietly, taking a few steps back. "I am…" He paused, his brow furrowed as he searched for the right word. "Friend," he whispered. " _I am friend_."

Evelyn gave Ben's arm a gentle squeeze as she stepped around him. She glanced around quickly around before whispering back to the man. "Lailah?"

"Yes," he replied. "She send me. I…help." He looked both heroes in the eyes, placing a hand over his chest as he introduced himself. "Sadir."

Evelyn silently thanked the Light. Lailah had someone on the inside looking out for them. Perhaps things would not be so complex—or bloody—after all.

One look at the young man, and she knew that he was genuine. It was not because of how unthreatening he appeared, although he did have a smaller build and his black hair was full of curls, some falling almost playfully into his face as he moved. Those things were comforting, but it was his eyes that secured her trust. His striking green eyes conveyed his true warmth and sincerity, and it was all she needed to be certain.

"Please take us to her, Sadir," she whispered before backing away.

Sadir's eyes darted from Evelyn to Ben as he nodded surreptitiously. He turned, waving a hand through the air, signaling them to follow.

The three made their way through the long hall, stopping just short of a side door. Sadir raised his hand and signaled them to stop, his wild curls bouncing as his head whipped back and forth to check for onlookers. With the coast clear, he pulled a dark iron skeleton key from his pocket. He made quick, yet stealthy work of the lock, opening the door gingerly as he beckoned them inside.

The passageway was small—cramped, in fact, in comparison to the vastness of the palace halls. Sadir closed and locked the door behind them, and everything went black until he retrieved and lit a torch from the wall. "Come," he whispered.

Evelyn followed Sadir while Ben trailed closely behind her, partially hunched over because the passage could not accommodate his stature. The corridor likely hadn't been used in some time, judging by the cobwebs that they were forced to cut through on their way down. It smelled dank and musty, but as they advanced, they also noticed the faint, yet unmistakable scent of rotten flesh.

"Evie," Ben said quietly. "I believe your friend is taking us down an old body chute."

Evelyn stopped in her tracks, turning to Ben. She had no idea what a 'body chute' even was, but from its literal translation, it sounded like nowhere she wanted to be.

Before she could respond or question him further, he said, "Please don't ask me how I know. Just take my word for it." He reached up, batting another cobweb away. "On the up-side, this one seems to have been retired from use."

A sinking feeling grew within the pit of Evelyn's stomach. _Find him now, ask questions later_ , she told herself.

Before they could find the end of the passage—it seemed to go on forever—Sadir turned to another locked door. He unlocked and opened it, holding an arm out as he told them, "Inside. Lailah."

Evelyn's heart began to pound, shaking her from within. She gulped deeply, not fearing a fight so much as the condition she'd find Omari in. She knew that wherever Lailah was, Omari would be with her. As she stepped through the doorway, she took a deep breath in an attempt to prepare herself for whatever lay ahead.

She and Ben walked through the dungeons at a cautious pace, but Sadir suddenly broke into a run ahead of them. They watched the young man sprint toward a woman with long, pearlescent hair who knelt on the dirt floor in an ivory dress. When he reached her, he dropped to his knees and swept her into his arms.

" _Imma coihe_ , _voi zukda._ " He drew back from his embrace and kissed her chastely before rising to his feet, helping her up along with him.

The woman smiled at Sadir, wiping a few tears from her eyes before she approached the two Heroes. "Queen Evelyn…" She bowed her head, her voice coming out in a rasp, as if she'd been crying for days. "Thank the gods."

Evelyn took the woman's hand, feeling an instant connection to her Will. "Lailah," she sighed with relief. "Please, call me Evelyn…and please tell me we're not too late."

Lailah looked at Evelyn, and then up at Ben.

"Sorry. This is my husband, Ben," Evelyn added. In her haste to get to Omari, she had nearly forgotten to introduce him.

"Evelyn, Ben," Lailah said before turning to the cell behind her. "You are not too late." She held out her torch, illuminating a disturbing scene. "But he is fading fast."

Evelyn's hands flew to her chest as her breath caught there. Her eyes stung and began welling up, though she was quick to blink away the tears before they could obstruct her vision. Struggling to catch her breath, she felt Ben's arm supporting her back.

On the filthy, wet floor of the cell, Omari lay on his side with knees tucked tightly into his chest. With a white-knuckled grip on the bars, he fought to steady himself against the uncontrollable shivering that had taken over his body. He repeatedly muttered incomprehensible words under his breath, gasping for air between sentences.

"Let me in," Evelyn demanded.

"Easy, love." Ben put a protective arm out and directed his attention to Lailah. "Is it safe for her to be close to…whatever is going on here?"

Lailah unlocked the cell door and swung it open, her eyes swollen with sorrow. "The darkness within him cannot be transferred to another. Inflicted by his brother, this can only be stopped by his surrender…or death."

* * *

**Author's Note** **: I'd like to express my deepest thanks and unending gratitude to Bishou no Marina, for being my friend, my beta reader, and for helping me out of tricky writing conundrums! I'd also like to thank my readers for continuing this journey with me, and for all of the** **faves** **,** **follows** **and** **reviews** **. Please keep them all coming, as they really do motivate and inspire me! The next chapter is already half done, so if you are worried about the fate of Omari, you won't be waiting long to find out!**


	8. Sacrifice

Evelyn rushed into Omari's cell and quickly covered her mouth to silence her shock. Ben and Lailah followed her, while Sadir stood post outside.

"Omari?" Evelyn lowered herself to her knees behind her friend who lay curled up and turned away. He clutched onto the bars, trying to steady himself from the tremors that had taken over his body. His hands were streaked with dried blood, no doubt from his unsuccessful attempts to free himself. His eyes remained faintly open, the whites of them swirling with darkness. It was as if he were trapped in a violent nightmare, unaware of her presence and unresponsive to her voice.

Evelyn placed a hand gently on his shoulder, whispering, " _Ari?_ "

Omari howled through gritted teeth, his face contorted with agony as he jerked away from her touch.

"Lashings," Lailah told Evelyn, her voice laced with regret. "They have been administering them daily, for as long as he resists."

Evelyn's heart sank as she watched Lailah delicately peel the tattered black robes from Omari's back. He had been enduring this cruelty all this time, and she never realized he was in trouble. A wave of guilt washed over her. She must have been too wrapped up in her personal issues to be alarmed by his absence. Omari would never have abandoned their friendship, yet she felt that that was exactly what _she_ had done. Her head hung low. She wanted so badly to take his pain away—to be able to touch him without fear of inflicting more. She gulped down the growing lump in her throat and looked away from the battered man lying in a heap before her.

"Just tell me what to do," Evelyn said to Lailah, resolute on doing anything in her power to save him. "Tell me how I can end this."

Lailah knelt down beside Evelyn, holding her hands above Omari as she channeled her Will down onto him. To Evelyn's surprise, her spell glowed a tranquil shade of green, unlike any magic she'd ever seen before.

"The King brought me here because of my gift," Lailah began. "I was ordered to keep the Prince alive, but forbidden to do anything more." She closed her eyes and her Will began flashing more brightly as she concentrated harder. "If they ever caught me—" she paused, her expression growing more strained. "—healing him, I… _we_ would be… executed."

Lailah exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath for an eternity, opening her eyes to see Omari's freshly knitted wounds reopening.

Evelyn looked over at the young woman in astonishment. "You can _heal_ him, then! I beg you, do what you must, and Ben and I will make sure that no one gets anywhere near this cell." She looked up over her shoulder at her husband who quickly nodded in agreement.

"I am afraid I cannot," she sighed. "I need _you_ , Evelyn. You are one of the most powerful Will-users in the world. Only together will we have any chance of saving him."

"You don't understand," Evelyn replied, her optimism now eclipsed by sheer uncertainty. "My magic _kills_ people."

Lailah shook her head. "That, it may, but you also have the ability to channel that very same magic into restoration. I know this."

"How could you possibly—"

"When he was still able to speak, Omari told me of your powers. He saw you cast lightning at a man who held your friend hostage." She held her hand in front of Evelyn, palm side up as she summoned a white orb. "How is it then, that you were able to kill one man and spare the other?"

"I don't…" Evelyn shook her head as her brow pinched together.

"You have the power to both harm _and_ help," Lailah continued. "Unchanneled Will is neither good nor evil…" The white orb in her palm began to turn green. "It is only what we make of it."

"How do you know so much about Will?" Evelyn asked, confounded by the other woman's abilities.

Lailah looked up into the dungeon corridor, and then down at Omari before locking eyes with Evelyn again. "It is a long story that there is very little time to tell. You will have to trust me," she insisted. "And _help_ me."

"Alright," Evelyn agreed, looking down at her tortured friend, willing to do anything just to rid him of his affliction. "What do I need to do?"

"Hold your hands up like this," she instructed Evelyn, cupping her own hands out in front of her to demonstrate. "And allow your Will to flow freely from them. Close your eyes. Rid yourself of all emotion. Forget your surroundings. Just focus on your power."

Evelyn closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. She quieted herself, using the sound of her own heart beating to find a calm from within. After a few moments, her face relaxed and became illuminated by the bright white orb which had fountained up from the palms of her hands.

Ben watched quietly and intently as Sadir guarded them from outside, scanning the hallway for any signs of intrusion.

Lailah let out a sigh of relief. "Yes, that is it. Open your eyes," she said.

Evelyn looked down into her hands, shocked by what she saw.

"This is what pure Will looks like, Evelyn," Lailah reassured her. "It has not yet been tainted by emotion or intention. Finding it is the hardest part. Now you need only channel it into healing." She guided Evelyn's hands over Omari's wounds. "Use these," she told her. "Use his injuries to fuel your spell."

Evelyn took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she focused on channeling restorative magic into the open gashes on Omari's back. She suddenly felt a cool sensation spreading over her hands, but tried not to let it distract her process.

_Life. Spirit. Soul. Mending._

Deep in concentration, Evelyn began to see light leaking through the backs of her eyelids when Lailah joined in alongside her. The stagnant air suddenly came to life, swirling around the two casters as bright, shimmering tendrils of green cascaded from their hands into Omari's open wounds. As Evelyn's magic ramped in potency, tiny translucent leaves danced within her spell, flitting about as if they were caught in the wind.

Now healing him from the inside out, Evelyn felt a true connection with the very core of Omari's life essence. That connection brought about an overwhelming sense of peace. But that peace was short-lived. The simple act of breathing became a strained effort. Her magic, which flowed freely at first, had gradually grown heavier and more difficult to channel.

"That is the way," Lailah whispered, growing more drained from her own exertions. "Keep going."

Evelyn was not sure how much longer she could maintain her channeled spell. The feeling was unlike any other she'd experienced before. It wasn't at all like the feeling of being pushed into the ground that she experienced when she charged up a powerful area spell. It wasn't even like the fatigue brought about by ordinary Will depletion. As she willed life into Omari, her heart rate slowed. Every muscle in her body began to burn like wildfire, and she grew increasingly dizzy.

She sucked in a breath and continued to push her limits—she could not give up on him.

Suddenly, Omari gasped for air, choking as he shot up from the ground. Disoriented by his surroundings, he scooted himself back against the bars, looking up at his visitors in terror. He locked eyes with Evelyn, and his panicked expression became replaced with utter sorrow and regret. Tears began to fill his eyes, washing away some of the darkness which had clouded them.

"Ev…Ev—" he muttered, still too weak to form any words.

Evelyn wanted to throw her arms around her friend and squeeze him like never before, but she could barely move. "Ari," she whispered, smiling with relief that he survived, even though deep down, she was heartbroken. She tried to mask her pain as she looked back at him. His eyes were sunken and his face appeared pale and emaciated.

"We must go quickly," Lailah told them, pulling out two Will potions and passing one to Evelyn before drinking her own. "The King will be looking for me."

Evelyn opened the vial and let her head fall back, pouring the potion into the back of her mouth in an attempt to avoid its bitter taste. "Thank you," she croaked, clearing her throat. The potion quickly—though only partially—revitalized her, and she stood with Lailah.

Ben moved in to help Omari, pausing in front of his wife. "Evie that was…I've never seen anything like that. Are you alright, love?"

Evelyn smiled at him, reassuringly. "I'm alright," she exhaled weakly as she looked past him at Omari. "We'd better get him to safety."

Ben nodded in agreement and turned to hook his arm under Omari's, coaxing the man up. "I've got you, mate. Let's get you out of here, shall we?"

Omari looked desperately at the man now holding him up and tried to speak again, "No," he whimpered. "Sh-she…" He winced. "G-get…" He paused, pressing his lips together, grunting in agony.

Ben pulled a health vial from his pocket and administered it to the trembling Prince, holding the man's chin up to ensure he swallowed the elixir. "Easy, now," he gently urged him.

Omari gulped deeply and grabbed Ben's wrist as his eyes, now wide and full of determination, shot up at him. "Get. Her. _Out_ ," he grunted.

Evelyn approached them, taking Omari's other arm. "I'll be alright, Ari, but we have to move you. Please just hold on."

Summoning what little strength he had left, Omari flung her from his arm violently, sending her stumbling across the cell. He watched as she caught herself against the stone wall. His face washed over with remorse and he looked back at Ben. "Leave me," he pleaded.

Ben strengthened his hold on Omari and locked eyes with his wife, silently questioning her. Though shock was written all over her tear-stained face, she nodded that she was alright. Ben's brow knitted together and his eyes narrowed as he pondered the threat that the unstable Omari posed to her safety. He pressed his lips together, overwrought with doubt as he shook his head in disagreement.

"No," Evelyn insisted. "We will _not_ leave him."

"Please," Omari begged Ben. "At least… Bind me." The young Prince was fighting a battle within that no one could possibly understand.

Suddenly, the footsteps of a guard patrol echoed from the end of the corridor. Lailah marched up to Ben and hurriedly tore a long strip of cloth from her ivory skirt, firmly pressing it into his hand. "Hurry," she insisted.

Ben quickly secured Omari's hands with the shredded cloth, shooting Evelyn a look of sheer reluctance. They clearly had not received the whole story behind the condition of their friend, and after what he'd just witnessed, he found himself torn between taking the man to safety and leaving him to his fate in order to keep her from harm.

"Go now!" Sadir ordered them in a hush.

The three quickly exited the prison cell, Ben supporting the ailing Prince as Evelyn and Lailah followed. Sadir pointed behind him, directing them toward the only passageway out as he stood facing the other end of the hall in anticipation of the patrol. Quietly, he unsheathed his scimitar, its curved blade appearing dull and worn while the tattered leather wraps dangled loosely from the handle.

Omari's legs gave out from under him and Ben crouched down to scoop him up. The entire group moved with quiet haste as Sadir slowly paced backwards, guarding their escape.

The patrol rounded a corner and came to a halt at the end of the hallway and Sadir stopped in his tracks. Though he could see little more than the dark silhouettes of the guards standing shoulder to shoulder, a quick surge of fear ran through him as he realized he was outnumbered. A dungeon patrol usually consisted of one guard, assigned the detail because of his lack of proficiency elsewhere.

He peered quickly over his shoulder to check on his companions as they reached the exit before he whipped his head back around to face the guards. Unlikely as it seemed that he could rise victorious against two larger challengers, it certainly was not unthinkable. He had no choice but to believe. The alternative would just be… suicide.

Sadir took a deep breath, raising his weapon as he shifted to a defensive stance. Even if he could not defeat them, he was certain that he could stall them long enough for his friends to escape, and that—to him—would still be a victory.

"Sadir!" Lailah hissed.

"Go," he urged her without looking back. "I will not be far, _ima coihe_."

Just then, a set of much heavier footsteps could be heard thundering down the corridor. Sadir squinted, but could not spot anything other than the two towering guards still standing side by side with their arms crossed. It was not until they parted and made way for their commander that he could identify the source of the noise.

"Sadir, Sadir... Loyalty is a funny thing," Bakari stated in a low growl as he stepped out from the shadows. Medallions of beaten gold jingled faintly with each step as he moved with the poise of a serpent, advancing past his guards to confront his unwanted guests. The bronze mountain of a man towered above them, and his eyes seemed to catch and hold the torchlight in their onyx depths.

The corners of the King's mouth turned downward. "How swiftly such devotion can be whisked away by the influence of a traitorous whore." His eyes flitted past Sadir, landing on Lailah, who met his gaze in silent defiance.

Evelyn heard Ben curse under his breath. Though equally alarmed, she allowed herself to relax into a fighting stance, light on her feet, ready to move.

"I had much higher hopes for you, my dear," he tutted softly as he patronized Lailah. "But I will settle for the pleasure of administering your retribution." A grin spread across his face and his eyes narrowed as he reached for his dark scepter—the tool of his domination.

"No," Sadir interjected, boldly pointing his weapon at Bakari, his eyes now blazing with fury and hatred.

Bakari let forth a guttural laugh, tossing his head back as he placed his hands on his hips. " _No?_ " An arrogant smile crossed his lips as he cocked a brow. "Your father gave you that blade to _serve_ me, and you dare point it in my face? You are about to die a disgrace to him, insolent whelp."

"You would slay me in front of him?" Sadir challenged the King in their native tongue, unshaken by his taunts. The two armored men guarding him were indistinguishable, but he had known that his father would be patrolling the dungeons that day, so he assumed—no, he _hoped_ that he was one of them.

"No," Bakari curtly replied. "I find it much more enjoyable to watch traitors fulfill their own death wishes." He smirked, retrieving his scepter and holding it out to his side, showcasing it like a prized jewel. Its ancient rune carvings glowed a faint purple while shadowy tendrils swirled around its length, waiting to be channeled at something, or someone.

Lailah gasped. She had witnessed the King's sick, twisted executions before. The very thought of him unleashing that kind of darkness on someone she loved was unbearable. She braced herself to make a move, but not before Evelyn caught her by the wrist, pulling her back.

Bakari cocked his head as Evelyn's actions caught his attention. Thankfully, her harem attire concealed her threat, and his eyes moved past her, burning into his healer with sheer disdain. "You will pay for this with your life, you foolish witch, but not before I force you to watch every one of your little friends _die_."

The King turned his attention back to the contemptuous man standing before him. He stared him down as he closed in on him, completely disregarding the scimitar in the young man's trembling hand.

"You know, boy," Bakari stated very nonchalantly to Sadir. "Staying your hand at this point does not make you loyal. It makes you a _coward_."

Bakari brazenly turned his back on both Sadir and his weapon, ordering his guards to unmask themselves. Both men immediately did as they were commanded and did so in perfect synchronicity. As Bakari next ordered them to step forward into the light, he turned back to face Sadir, grinning wickedly as the young man's father was revealed among his guardians.

Both of the King's soldiers stood at attention, their faces devoid of all expression. Sadir regarded them for a moment; just long enough to identify his father and send his heart sinking. The man he thought he could count on stood seemingly unaffected and unmoved by the impending threat to his son.

Sadir shifted his focus back to Bakari, keeping his eyes on the corrupt man as he called out for his father to aid him. "Father, do not let him kill me… _please_ ," he implored the man.

"He will not defy me," Bakari responded. "Your father would give his life for his King." His fingers danced up the length of his weapon playfully. "Would you like to see?"

Bakari pointed his scepter at Sadir's father and began channeling dark energy into the man, causing the guardsman to march a few steps forward. With sharp, concise movements, he then gripped the handle of his blade with both hands, and pointed the end just under his own chin. His face remained blank as he slowly began pushing the blade into his skin.

"NO!" Sadir cried out, striking Bakari with his scimitar, temporarily interrupting the channeled dark magic that threatened his father's life as he cut the King's shoulder open.

"Defend your King!" Bakari ordered Sadir's father with a twisted smirk of satisfaction.

Almost instinctively, Evelyn cast a spell in an attempt to give Sadir a chance to escape. Now equipped with the ability to access her raw magic, she attempted the unthinkable. There was no time to doubt or second-guess herself. She could only react.

As she unleashed her spell, a quick, yet deafening siren filled her ears and everything around her became enveloped in a light fog. Numbers—much like those that adorned the face of her grandfather clock—began dancing around her in a radiant circle of white. She held up a hand in the air, looking at both sides of it. While her movements were not out of the ordinary, through her fingers, she could see that everyone else's had slowed to a snail's pace.

Dropping her hand, she knew that she needed to act quickly. There was no telling just how long this advantage would last.

"I'm sorry," she muttered under her breath as she tried to physically move Ben, Omari and Lailah into the exitway. Struggling against the unworldly heavy weight of them, she had no choice but to cast a light force push spell in their direction. "I'm so sorry," she sighed as her spell sent them through the air to safety, where they landed in a heap.

With her friends out of harm's way, she whipped back around to face Bakari, but before she could put herself between him and Sadir, the effects of her spell dissipated. A resounding siren filled her ears again, this time in reverse, and as it faded, she found herself just paces away from the King. She tried reaching for Sadir, but he'd already been pulled away. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized that she could no longer intervene.

She watched in horror as the guardsmen obeyed his master's bidding, drawing his sword and, with his free hand firmly grasping his own son's shoulder, forcing the boy onto the blade. Sadir gasped as his father impaled him, the sounds of the young man choking on his own blood soon drowned out by Lailah's screams.

Sadir was lost. He fell lifeless to the ground with an overwhelming thud. The disturbing sound was eerily similar to that of a freshly slaughtered animal, taken with no respect for its life. Evelyn's eyes welled up with tears. She could have saved him, had she run to him first.

"Evie!" Ben called out, jarring her back to her senses so that she could see that nothing now stood between her and the King.

All was silent as Evelyn looked up at the dark, twisted tyrant who regarded her with an almost playful curiosity. Her sadness quickly morphed into anger. She quickly began charging up another spell, but once Bakari caught a glimpse of her glowing Will lines, his eyes widened in shock and he quickly directed his dark energy at her. Before she could unleash her spell, it backfired, sending her flying into the escape passage where she crashed into a column.

"Evie, _no_!" Ben cried out. Filled with fury, he drew both his pistols and discharged them in rapid fire at the King.

Bakari paced slowly toward the escape passage, directly into Ben's line of fire as the shadows around him absorbed every shot. His casual pace suggested his certainty of victory.

"I have killed us all," Lailah wept. The healer was overcome with grief and regret as she knelt alongside Omari, her palm pressed against his breastbone, channeling life-sustaining magic into him.

Eyes half-lidded, Evelyn outstretched an arm from where she lay on the ground. Her hand glowed a bright orange, and before Bakari could get anywhere near her surviving friends, she unleashed a fireball powerful enough to cave in the entrance of the passageway.

Darkness surrounded the four as Ben fumbled for his wife. Lailah summoned a glowing orb to shed some light on their surroundings, and through the dust and debris, they found Evelyn sitting up against the column.

"Will…" Evelyn's voice croaked.

Ben dropped to his knees beside her, cupping her face with his hands as he inspected her in a panic. "Please be alright, sweetheart… Talk to me," he pleaded.

Evelyn gulped and took a deep breath. "Will potion."

Ben quickly located a blue vial in his pocket as Lailah pulled one from her medicine pouch.

"Both… please," Evelyn rasped.

Lailah passed her potion to Ben, who quickly, yet gently administered them to his wife.

A few moments later, Evelyn regained enough strength to stand, finding and swiping a small torch from the debris on her way up. Ben stepped in to assist her, but she shook her head as she pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm alright, love. I promise." She locked eyes with him, nodding reassuringly before she lit and passed him the small torch.

Evelyn looked over at Lailah who—despite her current state of grief and shock—still managed to offer a solemn nod of relief. She reached her hand out to the other woman, helping her over a heap of rubble before looking back at Ben. "Lailah and I can walk out just fine, but we will need you to help Omari."

"They've probably got patrols out looking for us," he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't see how we get out of this one on foot, Evie. We are going to have to—"

"No," Evelyn interjected. "Omari would never survive teleportation. We haven't come this far only to give up."

"You will not have to," Lailah wept. "Sadir, he… he made certain to ensure our escape."

"I'm so sorry, Lailah," Evie consoled her. "I can't imagine how painful this must be, but I have to ask you… _How_?"

"Because this passageway was built by the ancients, and Sadir… he was a scholar." The mere mention of her beloved's name shook her to tears. "He told me that there are hundreds of forks and cross ways, leading to an endless number of possible destinations."

Ben scratched at the side of his jaw as his brow wrinkled. "Not meaning any offense, milady, but that sounds like an endless trap."

"These narrow passageways were built to confuse anyone of ill intent, alive or dead, to keep them from finding the family crypts hidden beneath the palace." She paused, gulping deeply before she said his name again. "Sadir had studied the complex layout for years before finding the combination that leads to an exit outside the city." She pulled out a folded piece of parchment from her pouch. "And he mapped it out for us, j-just in case—"

Evelyn took the map and gave Lailah's hands a gentle squeeze, choked up as she thought of this woman's loss. "He was a hero. We will never forget the sacrifice he made for us," she assured her, voice shaking as she tried to remain strong. "I know this must be unimaginably hard, but we need to go now, Lailah."

The healer nodded in reluctant agreement, wiping the tears that dripped down to her chin. She turned to face the sealed entrance, placing her hands against the fallen stone that separated her from Sadir's body. Her breath came in erratic gasps as her body shook with her sobbing. While she took a knee to say a prayer for her fallen beloved, Evelyn looked over at Ben. They locked eyes, silently conveying their gratitude for one another's existence.

Lailah finished her prayer and rejoined them, her face flushed with red and dripping with tears. Evelyn hooked an arm under the other woman's, offering her what support and comfort she could as they began to navigate their way out. The journey would surely be tricky, but thanks to a young rebel soldier named Sadir, it would lead them safely home.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** **Reviews, follows and faves are priceless and deeply appreciated. If you are enjoying the story thus far, I'd love to hear your feedback! Be a part of this journey with me and let me know you're out there and what your thoughts are! ...Also, rest in peace, Sadir.**


	9. Test of Faith

After hours of intricate navigation through the complex tunnel system running deep below the palace of Samarkand, Evelyn, Ben, Lailah and Omari finally emerged above ground. The narrow opening was well concealed by an overgrowth of prickly plants, making for an even trickier final escape. Evelyn hacked through the tough thickness with a dagger, taking care to create an opening wide enough for Ben to carry the fallen prince through. The group made it out just as the sun began dipping into the horizon. Though it was a long awaited relief to see the vivid, fiery sky and breathe fresh air into their lungs, they could not relax just yet.

Evelyn pulled a map from Ben's pack as he stood with Omari draped over his arms. She flipped the map around a few times, looking up at the horizon and back down before finally getting her bearings. She quickly pointed toward a narrow path that cut through the mountainside. "This way," she told them.

Lailah appeared utterly drained and shell-shocked as she weakly raised her hand. "Wait," she requested, her voice weak and monotonous. "It has been nearly an hour," she continued, turning to Ben and Omari. "He needs healing."

With a solemn nod, Ben laid the ailing Prince down on the ground in a practiced manner. In order to keep Omari's life sustained this long, the group had to stop repeatedly to aid him over the course of their journey. At first, they administered one healing phial every hour, but when those were depleted, Lailah had to take over and channel her healing each time. Standing in the light of day, now, it was clear that this task had taken a severe toll on her. Her naturally pink complexion had turned pale and grey, and she could no longer hold herself up straight, slumping forward as if the weight of the world were pressing against her back.

Ben stood up and glanced down at Lailah before locking eyes with Evelyn, his gaze full of doubt and regret. Omari's life was fleeing from his body at a much more rapid pace than they could keep up with, and it had become apparent to them both. Not wanting to upset Lailah any more than she already was, he spoke vaguely to his wife as the healer worked.

"The sun," he started off, his eyes darting down to Omari to emphasize that by 'sun', he was referring to the Prince. "Will be setting soon," he advised her. "We're going to have to move faster if we want to make it before we lose the light."

Evelyn pressed her lips together knowingly. She looked up at the sky, her eyelids fluttering as she blinked away the moisture forming in her eyes. "We can still make it," she replied, not out of denial, but rather to call upon the last shred of hope that remained deep within her soul.

"It is done, for now," Lailah told them as she struggled to rise from where she knelt over Omari.

Evelyn swooped in to help her up, her brow knitted with concern as she studied the fatigue written all over her face. "Lailah, _please_ let me share in this task," she pled with her. "You don't have to do this alone."

Lailah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "We can not risk losing you," she responded. "I have been doing this for years, and you have only just begun." She opened her eyes, looking at Evelyn through heavy lids. "Without proper training, you could harm yourself...or worse."

Evelyn placed her hands on the other woman's shoulders, steadying her as she helped her stand. "What do you mean?"

Lailah's swollen red eyes pooled with tears, and she gulped deeply before offering an answer. "I have seen it first hand… and I will not allow it to happen ever again."

Willing to do just about anything she could to ease this woman's suffering, Evelyn nodded. "Okay," she agreed, "but at least take some water." She reached across to retrieve a small canteen from Ben.

Lailah reluctantly sipped from the container as Evelyn turned up a hand and summoned her Will. A light sheen of frost glittered over her palm as she conjured the beginnings of an ice spell.

"Here," she spoke softly as she pressed her palm against Lailah's forehead, then gently moved it over both her cheeks. "This will help."

The healer's eyes lazily closed, and she let out an instinctive sigh of relief.

A soft smile crossed Evelyn's lips. "Better?"

Lailah opened her eyes and the corners of her mouth tugged ever-so slightly into what would likely have been a smile, had the woman not been so overwrought with grief. "Thank you," she replied.

Evelyn nodded, satisfied to have—at the very least—been able to provide Lailah with a small measure of comfort. Looking over at Ben, she said, "Okay, we're ready now."

Ben wasted no time in lifting Omari back up from the ground, and Evelyn stepped ahead to lead them the rest of the way home.

* * *

Under the deep velvet canopy of the midnight sky, the group finally found themselves standing before the gates to Reaver's desert estate. The trek had been grueling, and after countless hours, the heroic constitutions of both Ben and Evelyn had been tested to their absolute limits. The weight of the unconscious prince had caused Ben's arms to burn and quiver as what little strength he had left was sapped from his body. Evelyn's Will had become severely depleted after she took over healing Omari when Lailah had fallen too weak to dispute her. Evelyn refused to let her friend perish in the desert, and she was also not about to let down the woman who risked everything to save him.

"Wait here just a moment," Evelyn whispered as she unhooked Lailah's arm from around her neck and carefully propped her against the stone wall beside the gates. She moved sluggishly to swing open the gate, and found herself struggling with the weight of the wrought iron. Looking back at Ben, she gave a nod of assurance before pulling it the rest of the way open.

It was eerily silent, so much so that the creaking of the gate jolted them into a guarded state. After a quick visual inspection of the courtyard, they let out a collective sigh. Ben gritted his teeth as he hiked the slumping prince back up into his arms, and Evelyn hooked her arm behind Lailah before they made their way up the path.

Once inside, Ben grunted as he put Omari down on the lounge chair—the first surface he saw where he could deposit the man without dropping him. "Stay here with him," he told Evelyn.

Lailah leaned against a nearby wall for a few moments before her legs gave out and she slid down onto her backside. Evelyn kneeled beside Omari and placed two fingers just under his jaw before looking up at Ben, eyes wide with alarm. "Hurry," she urged him, her breathing now labored.

Ben moved as swiftly across the foyer as his body would allow. He placed his hand against the far wall, steadying himself in front of an elaborate hall clock. Propped against the foot of the clock was the large pack they'd brought with them from the ship. He leaned forward, flinching away a dizzy spell as he reached inside to grab a handful of the restorative potions they'd packed ahead of the trip.

"Ben!" Evelyn cried out in a panic. "He's not breathing!"

Ben bit down on the cork of a healing phial and pulled it out with his teeth, spitting it onto the floor as he shuffled over to them. He fell to his knees beside them with a hard thud and quickly administered the liquid. His movements were uncharacteristically erratic and unbalanced. His hand pinched Omari's nose while the other rubbed at his throat in an attempt to force the potion down.

As Ben worked feverishly to revive the Prince, Evelyn reached into his pocket to retrieve another potion. "Drink," she ordered him, pressing the open vial to his lips. "I can't lose you, too." Her voice was shaking. For the first time since they set out on their quest, she looked as if she had lost all hope.

He swallowed the bitter elixir and almost instantly, his eyes grew wide with alertness and his posture straightened. "I'm not going anywhere, love." He pulled two potions of Will from his pocket with his free hand. "And neither are you," he assured her.

Evelyn drank the Will potion and took the other to Lailah, who still sat slumped over on the floor behind her. The young woman devoured the elixir and gulped deeply before gasping for air. As her faculties rapidly returned, she looked over Evelyn's shoulder and saw Ben pumping on Omari's chest. Her expression shifted to one of horror, causing Evelyn to look back, and together they both scrambled to help Ben.

"Stop," Lailah calmly requested, holding a hand out over Ben's.

Ben shot her a look of utter confusion. " _Stop?_ " he huffed between chest compressions before looking over at Evelyn. "Evie, if I stop—"

"His heart stops," Lailah finished.

Evelyn locked gazes with Lailah and a dead silence fell over them, the only sounds filling the room were those of Ben's fervid resuscitation attempts as they grew increasingly more desperate and violent. Each moment felt like an eternity until Evelyn's eyes finally widened and her jaw hung slightly agape. "Only surrender, or... _death_ ," she began reciting what Lailah had previously told them in the dungeons when they had first found Omari.

"Will _free_ him from the dark affliction," Lailah finished, bowing her head.

"So...we can bring him back?" Evelyn asked her nervously.

Lailah's eyes burned with newfound determination. " _You_ cannot," she answered. "But I can."

Evelyn shook her head. "Wait!" she shouted as the other woman positioned herself beside the Prince. "You told me you needed me in order to save him. I will not risk his life over your lack of confidence in my abilities!"

"I would never risk a life over such things...his or yours," she calmly assured her. She placed her hands over Omari's chest, looking up at Ben expectantly.

Ben paused a few moments before he reluctantly pulled his hands back and stepped away from the other man.

In a panic, Evelyn rushed over and knelt across from Lailah, her hands outstretched, already glowing with restorative magic.

"No!" Lailah shouted, her eyes slashing over at Ben. "If you want your wife to live, you must not let her do this!"

The healer's words struck Ben with an immediate state of worry and he rushed in with lightning speed. Evelyn was strong and determined, but her physical strength was no match for his as he wrapped his arms around her, and with a bear hug, he pulled her away from her dying friend. The momentum of his actions brought him down to the floor on his backside, her along with him. Sensing her pain, he squeezed her tightly and rocked back and forth as they both watched the healer attempt to revive Omari.

Lailah held her hands out over the lifeless Prince, drawing in a deep breath before locking eyes with Evelyn. "If I do not survive this, please tell him that he must finish what we started."

Evelyn struggled from within Ben's hold on her. "No, please, Lailah," she begged. "You don't have to die."

Lailah's eyes glazed over and she softly smiled. "And I will certainly try not to," she replied. "But if I do, then I will be at peace with Sadir." She closed her eyes and readied herself, holding her hands out over Omari before exhaling and telling Evelyn one last thing under her breath. "No matter what, you must not intervene."

Having finally claimed the life of its victim, the inky tendrils of Bakari's corruption dripped from Omari's body when his heart stopped beating. Evelyn sobbed as she watched his complexion turn blue. All of the things she could have done differently— _should_ have done differently—played over in her mind. She stopped struggling against her husband and clung to him with all of her strength as she continued to watch helplessly as not one, but two innocent souls fought for their lives.

Lailah placed one hand on the Prince's forehead and the other over his heart. A radiant, almost blinding green glow emanated from her palms, spreading slowly up her arms and into her chest as she channeled life into him. Her expression contorted with agony as the power of her spell forced an inner struggle to maintain the delicate balance between life and death for them both. Her breathing became labored and she let out a yelp as she fought to maintain her connection.

Overcome by shock, guilt and grief, Evelyn turned to bury her face into Ben's neck.

Ben rest his chin on the top of her head as he held her close. "Shh," he whispered. "Don't give up hope now, love."

He was right. Though Lailah was attempting to do something unthinkable, and though Omari was—for all intents and purposes—gone, Evelyn had to have faith in their strength and will. If that was all that she could do in this moment, then she would not be as powerless as she thought. Despite never being the type of person to leave anything to fate or the gods, she raised her head, and with eyes still closed, she whispered a prayer.

Ben let his eyes close as his forehead touched hers. Evelyn's breath ghosted across his lips as she called for help from the beyond. He could not make out all of her words, but he distinctly heard her whisper the names of her mother and Walter. After a few minutes, they were both quickly jolted by a loud thud and a ragged gasp.

Evelyn quickly sprung into action, rushing to her friend's side. Omari had drawn a breath, but Lailah had fallen. Ben swooped in next to the healer and checked for a pulse.

"She's unconscious, but she's alive." He nodded. "Is he—"

"He's breathing!" She sobbed tears of joy, cradling the Prince's head in her arms.

"I've got her, Evie," Ben said, lifting Lailah up from the floor. "You should stay with him until he's come about."

"A-are you sure?" she stammered, still in a state of disbelief over what had just taken place.

Ben smiled, reassuringly. "She's probably going to need all of the potions we have left and a good bit of rest, but I think she'll be alright. Besides, I'm quite certain the Prince would much rather see your face than my old mug when he comes to."

Evelyn smiled back at him, nodding in agreement, and he took the healer to a nearby room for rest and replenishment.

"Ari?" Evelyn whispered, gently touching Omari's face as she scanned his features for signs of life. She could not be sure that he was out of the woods until his mind awakened. "I'm...I'm so sorry, my friend," she whimpered. "I could have prevented this all. I should never have let you come back to this place. I should have protected you."

Omari's eyes squinted as he strained to open them. He mumbled and grumbled incomprehensibly as his head turned side to side, as if he were waking from a nightmare. "Evelyn," he rasped.

"Yes!" she shouted, a bit overzealously. "It's me, Omari!"

He winced in pain at the volume of her voice. "Ah, ow…"

"Sorry," she whispered, her eyes full of regret though her smile spanned from ear to ear now knowing that he had been saved. "Forgive me."

He struggled to open his eyes and focus on her face. "There is...nothing to forgive."

"Not my shouting, Ari," she replied, looking down at him with remorse. "You nearly died… You _did_ die. And it was all my fault."

Omari reached a hand weakly to touch her cheek, softly skimming his fingertips across her tears. "No," he replied, the strength returning to his voice. "Never say that again. Never think that again."

Evelyn bent forward and embraced him, grateful for the second chance they'd both just been given. "Never leave again," she said.

Omari returned her embrace. "You know I had to, Evelyn."

"No," she argued, leaning back to look in his eyes. "You promised me that it would not be goodbye forever and nearly got yourself killed fighting your brother."

Omari smiled at Evelyn as he pushed himself upright, taking her hands into his. "Have you not also nearly given your life for what you believe in?"

Evelyn slowly shook her head as a grin crossed her lips. They were more alike than she had ever thought before. Deep down, she understood why he did what he did, but selfishly, she wished he had never left Albion. Hugging him tightly, she replied, "This is _our_ fight now. You won't be risking your life alone ever again."

Omari hugged her back, a few moments later asking, "Where are we?"

"I'd be happy to bring you up to speed, mate," Ben interjected as he came back into the foyer. "But you'll have to stop putting the moves on my wife first," he joked.

"Ben!" Omari smiled, relinquishing Evelyn and holding out a hand to shake the other man's. " _Wife?_ I suppose congratulations are in order, my friend."

"Thanks, brother." Ben gave Omari a gentle pat on the shoulder before crouching down next to him and Evelyn. "You gave us all a good scare. It's good to see you back."

Omari looked around, for the first time since regaining consciousness. "So, where _are_ we?"

"This estate belongs to Reaver," Evelyn answered. "But we are still in Samarkand. We barely got you out of the palace alive."

Omari's expression fell. "Sadir...and Lailah?"

Evelyn looked down into her hands and Ben responded, "Lailah is here and she should pull through just fine, but Sadir..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

Omari brought a hand to his mouth, his thumb and forefinger tracing his chin as he sighed. "He was so young. So strong willed. One of the good ones."

"He knew what he was fighting for. He fought until the very end to give us our escape," Evelyn added.

"Tell me how it all happened. Please," Omari asked her, his voice laced with sorrow.

* * *

Later that night, after Ben and Evelyn helped Omari into a nearby room to get some much needed rest, and after they'd checked in on Lailah who was still in a deep sleep, they made their way to the main bedchamber.

Utterly exhausted, Evelyn fumbled through the darkness toward the bed and conjured a small orb of flame in her hand to find an oil lamp on the nightstand. She tipped her hand down, allowing the fiery orb to trickle down her fingers and onto the wick.

With the room now dimly lit, they both looked up at the massive headboard: lavish cherrywood intricately carved with golden accents and a double "R" in the center. Most of the furniture around the room had been covered with dust cloths, and the area rugs had been rolled and propped up against a wall. It was clear that this old estate belonging to Reaver was not abandoned, it was vacated with thought and care.

While Ben dressed down for bed, Evelyn pulled the dust cloth from the mattress. As she reached under the mattress to untuck the taught sheets, she felt a folded piece of parchment with the back of her hand. Quietly, she pulled it out and her heart jumped when she recognized the handwriting on the outside. She desperately wanted to read its contents, but for fear of what it might say, she decided to tuck it discreetly under her pillow instead.

Ben smacked his pillow a few times to fluff it from its flattened state, and he slid into bed. He reached across, stroking Evelyn's back as she sat on the edge of the other side, still fully clothed. "Come now, sweetheart. You need to sleep."

Evelyn kicked off her sandals and removed the pieces of her jade-adorned jewelry one by one. The clinking sound that each piece made as she placed them on the wooden nightstand was a relief from the deafening silence inside the room. She felt an overwhelming sense of grief and sorrow in this place, and it was not limited to the estate. From the moment she arrived in Samarkand, she sensed the pain and death spreading across the country like a plague, and an unfathomable evil at work.

"Sleep, my love," she replied, turning to him for a soft goodnight kiss. "I will join you soon, I just...my mind is too full right now."

Ben lifted the sheet and beckoned her to him. "I thought I lost you today, Evie. Please just let me hold you close and I'll help you quiet your mind."

Evelyn nodded silently, biting her lip as a wave of emotions came crashing over her. They had all nearly met their ends that day, and she realized that they were up against a much more sinister darkness than ever before; one that she was no longer certain she could defeat. She slid back into Ben and he pulled her tightly against him.

Ben drifted quickly to sleep, but Evelyn could not stop thinking about the letter she'd found. It was haunting her. Good or bad, she could not rest until she knew what was inside. Carefully, she wriggled out from Ben's arms and reached for the folded parchment under her pillow. Feeling an overwhelming need to read the letter alone, she very quietly got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room.

Inside Reaver's old study, she found an upholstered chair next to a large window. She tugged the curtains back, letting the blue glow of moonlight cascade inside. Curling up into the chair, she pulled out the letter. Her heart began to race as her fingers traced the author's inscription: _Reaver_.

She drew in a deep breath and unfolded the parchment.

_Reaver,_

_After all these years since you left and never came back, I write with hope that you have not forgotten me. We had both said and done hurtful and destructive things. I do not know how one could forget, but I imagine the centuries may have taught you things that even I might think impossible._

_If it is not enough that long ago, against my better judgment, I saved you from a fate worse than death, than perhaps remember how I came to love you despite knowing the truth of your past. I tried so hard to be the person who would make you realize the value of life and the connection we had forged, but in the end, I was not enough._

_I blamed you for a long time after Evan died. I had always known that you did not want marriage for yourself, and I suppose I should have known that you did not want it for me, either. I guess I will never know what your true motive was for denying help to my dying husband, but I write you now to implore you to return home for sake of Albion, before it is too late._

_My children are in danger from forces beyond my control and their father has been growing mad with an affliction that cannot be diagnosed. The future of everything we fought for and all that I've worked so hard to build is at stake._

_Theresa came to me in a dream last night and foretold my fate, those of my children, and that of the country. By the time this letter reaches you, it will likely be too late for me and the King-Consort, but you must come back for Logan and Evelyn. My young son will need advisement and guidance as he is forced into an untimely rule, and little Evie will need to be kept safe. I have entrusted two dear friends with their care and upbringing, but once I am gone, there must still be a Hero in Bowerstone. You are all that remains of us, Reaver._

_I know you do not trust the Seeress, but if not for her, we would never have been brought together. I am not asking you to believe in her prophecy, I am asking you to help me, one last time. A darkness is coming and it will spell the end for us all, even you, if you ignore this request._

_I am not afraid to face my fate, but I do fear what might happen to those I love once I am gone. I worry for my children, my friends, my trusted adviser...and you. My love for you never died, and it never will, Reaver. Not even when I am gone. If any part of you still loves me, please do this._

_Sparrow_

As she neared the end of the letter, Evelyn strained to make out the words. Her vision blurred as her eyes welled up with tears. Blinking them away, she ran her thumb over her mother's signature and carefully refolded the letter, clasping it close to her heart as she contemplated the revelations inside.

A few moments later, a light tapping at the door startled from her seat. She quickly tucked the note into her top and wiped her face dry before making her way across the room. "Who's there?" she whispered as she approached the door and reached for the knob.

* * *

**A/N:** **I'll be honest, this chapter had been sitting in my google docs nearly finished for over a month because I didn't have the confidence to push it through without my beta. I miss her dearly, but I know she'd want me to press on with the story even though she can't be here for me right now. I want to thank my friend Angela (kiltsaresexy) for being my sounding board with what little time she's had outside her insane schedule. I must also thank Lily (h34rt1lly) for saving the day and reading this over before I published. Most of all, my deepest gratitude goes out to you all, the readers. Thank you for continuing on this journey with me. Big revelations may have just happened in this update, but even bigger are in store as we get closer to the apex of the story. If you've enjoyed things so far, please consider showing your support by way of favoriting and following, and please take a moment to leave your thoughts on this chapter in the review box below!**


	10. Truth and Trust

The quiet nights in Samarkand were downright chilling. It was not at all like Aurora, a desert land in which the Queen had become quite familiar with and fond of over the years. This place was different, somehow. The air was dreadfully stagnant. Where one might expect to hear the hissing of skittering sands or rustling of dry brush, here those ambient sounds were disturbingly absent. Being enveloped in such silence and stillness felt like _death_.

Evelyn glanced back down to the letter she'd just read. Her ears became muffled with the pounding of her heart, yet she found the whooshing sound of her own blood strangely comforting. It was like being underwater, she thought. She carefully refolded the letter and tucked it into her shirt pocket before tiptoeing over to investigate the tapping at the door.

"Who's there?" she inquired softly, pressing her hand to the cold, smooth cherry wood as she leaned against it.

"It is Lailah. May I please speak with you, Evelyn?"

Though the young woman's voice cracked with weakness, Evelyn was still incredibly relieved to hear her speaking again. Apart from all of the unanswered questions she had had swirling around in her mind, she wanted—no, she _needed_ —to thank her for all she'd sacrificed to save Omari.

"Of course," she quietly replied, opening the door just enough to let her through before gingerly closing it behind them.

The room was dimly lit, but Evelyn could still see the pink of Lailah's cheeks, while also noticing that her posture had straightened—a relief after having watched the woman collapse earlier that evening . "I was _so_ worried for you, Lailah," she began, seating herself on the ornate wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. "Please," she insisted, patting the spot next to her. "Sit with me."

Lailah smoothed down her ragged skirt before sitting next to Evelyn and placed her hands in her lap as she turned toward her. "I know that you have many questions for me, and I will do my best to answer them," she softly assured her. "But after that, I must also ask something of you."

The smooth tenor of Lailah's voice put Evelyn at ease, despite the weight of the situation at hand. She cleared her throat and pushed her hair away from her face, tucking a few untamed strands behind her ears. "I...I want to _thank_ you, Lailah." She locked eyes with the other woman, pausing there a moment. The healer's irises were a breathtakingly ethereal shade of azure; as if they were painted by Will, itself, Evelyn thought. "Without your help, Omari would be dead, and Samarkand…" She trailed off, flinching at the thought of what the once-peaceful land had become, and what it might have become if the line of succession had ended with an evil dictator.

Lailah placed her hand over Evelyn's and nervously retracted once their fingers touched. "I know," she replied. "And I regret that my motivation was not purely selfless." Her gaze dropped. "I feel terrible for having risked innocent lives in order to save my country from a terrible fate. I could not bear the guilt if something had happened to you, your husband, or…" The shimmering strands of her white hair spilled over her chest as she closed her eyes and lowered her head.

"But we are all fine," Evelyn concluded, before biting her lip as she quickly remembered their fallen friend, Lailah's love. Her eyes glazed over. "Oh, Lailah. I'm so sorry... _Sadir_." She reached over and gently squeezed the woman's shoulder. "His sacrifice will never be forgotten. I promise you that."

Lailah's brow pinched together as she struggled to mask her grief, and she softly shifted away from Evelyn's touch of consolation. "Thank you." The faintest of smiles crossed her lips. "I can only hope that his soul is at peace now after so much torment." Looking out at nothing in particular, her eyes—once full of sadness—suddenly burned with rage. "But when a life is claimed by the dark influence of a sick, twisted King," she seethed, "there can be no assurance."

Evelyn's heart plummeted. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she began reaching for Lailah's hand before pulling back. She wanted to comfort her, but she sensed after her previous attempt that the woman did not wish to be touched. Having been through a past trauma of her own, she could empathize. "We cannot let the memory of a good soul become tarnished by the evil deeds of a mad King," she vowed. "We _will_ end this. Together, we can—"

"Please," Lailah interrupted. "While I have much respect for your worldly knowledge, I am afraid that this type of dark magic is an ancient practice; one that few, if any, truly know the depth of."

Evelyn straightened her posture, readying herself. "This... _dark magic_." Her eyes flitted back and forth as she scanned the recesses of her memory. "I believe I have seen something like it before." She recalled the vision of Walter, blinded and tainted by The Crawler, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "Light help us all if it has returned."

"Returned?" Lailah asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I had had every confidence that we'd banished The Darkness by putting an end to The Crawler." Evelyn replied, baffled. "I was certain of it."

"You may have banished the harbinger of the darkness, but that does not mean that you put an end to its evil. Harbingers are mere vessels. To destroy The Darkness itself would be an undertaking unfathomable to most."

A familiar feeling of dread washed over Evelyn; the same feeling she'd experienced when Theresa foretold her of an impending darkness that threatened Albion and beyond. Were all of her efforts to defeat this evil made in vain? And what about those who sacrificed their lives fighting for the cause? She gulped deeply as a sick feeling churned inside her stomach. "If it still exists despite the death of its grand architect, then I fear I have misled many people."

"You must not look at it that way," Lailah insisted.

"Theresa… She never told me," Evelyn replied, shaking her head as her gaze shifted down to her lap.

"None of this is your doing," Lailah assured her. "How can you mislead people when you, yourself, were misled?"

Evelyn's clasped her hands together tensely. "How could she?" Her brow pinched together and her face began to redden. "How could she neglect to tell me that—despite everything we fought for; all that we lost—it would return?" The tone of her began to shake. "That Walter would die for _nothing_."

Lailah scanned Evelyn's face until the two locked eyes. "Not everything is black and white," she replied. "And for better or worse, Theresa still guided you exactly to where you were destined to be."

"She _mis-_ guided me," Evelyn snapped. "If I'd just had all of the facts that she withheld…"

"The outcome would not have changed," Lailah interjected. "The Seeress could have told you that you would lose Walter, but what would have happened then?" Evelyn drew a breath to answer, but Lailah continued before she could reply. "You may have tried to save him. You may have even succeeded, but not without sacrificing something else. _Someone_ else." She paused a moment, her expression now more sorrowful. "And even then, you would only have prolonged the inevitable. Not even a Hero has the power to twist fate."

Evelyn's eyes darted back and forth as she searched the confines of her memories, finding fleeting imagery of a battle-wounded, lifeless Walter. She shook her head gently, the edge of pain washing over her face.

"You must try not to fixate on the past. Those sacrifices that cannot be reversed," Lailah insisted, softly.

"Walter was like a _father_ to me. My real father died before I was old enough to forge any memories of him." Evelyn flicked away a few tears with her fingertips. "Did you know your father?"

"I did know my father," Lailah replied. "He taught me everything I know today. I can still remember his face." She paused, blinking away the moisture forming in her eyes. "So full of expression and life. His Will lines used to mesmerize me." She paused, swallowing deeply. "But when he died in my arms, I watched all of that magnificence fade in a matter of seconds. You never know just how quickly life can escape one's body, until you watch it happen before your very eyes." She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. "He was one of the greatest men I have ever known… one of the greatest Heroes."

Evelyn winced. "I feel like a complete Hobbe's knob for even asking—"

"You could not have possibly known," Lailah replied.

"I had no idea your father was a Hero. That's amazing, actually. Would you be comfortable discussing his lineage?" Evelyn asked.

"Perhaps one day," Lailah replied. "But right now, we must focus on the threat at hand."

" _The Darkness_ ," Evelyn replied.

Lailah nodded as she adjusted herself in her seat, leaning closer to Evelyn as her voice dropped to a hushed level. "And there is yet more that we must discuss. But not until I have earned your complete trust."

Confounded, Evelyn searched the other woman's eyes for a tell. What was she still keeping from her? If she knows so much about the resurging darkness, why not just tell her? Her anxiety crept back up, quickening her pulse and breathing.

"Lailah," Evelyn pleaded, "this is not the time to withhold information. Please do not be like _her_. Theresa was so cryptic, it cost me the lives of those I loved and swore to protect."

Lailah grabbed both of Evelyn's hands firmly, her eyes widening as the two locked gazes. "You cannot save everyone," she insisted. "Sometimes all that we can do is try to minimize the losses and heal the wounds left behind by those we do lose. Do you understand?"

Evelyn reached inside her pocket and pulled out her mother's letter. She delicately opened the old parchment, running her fingers over the inked lettering. "No," she replied with furrowed brow. "I believe that some people simply accept—even _choose_ —sacrifice because the alternative is far more daunting." She looked up from the letter with glassy eyes that now burned with determination. "That will never be me. I will never give up on saving the people I love."

"And I understand that kind of steadfast devotion," Lailah assured her. "But…" She began fumbling for words. "Having knowledge of your future does not mean that you can change any of it."

Evelyn scoffed. "Then what is the point in even telling someone what their future holds? Warning them...for _what_?"

Lailah chose her words carefully before replying, "Seers contemplate that very question all of the time. The gift of sight is also a great burden. I do not have an answer that would put your mind at ease. What is most important is that you remember: your path is yours alone. You can not deviate. You can not alter it. Your choices are mere twists and turns, all leading to the same destiny. Do you understand?"

Evelyn drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. "I think so," she replied. "But that feels very much as if I am a puppet with no real control over where I end up in this life."

"Not at all, Evelyn." Lailah's expression softened as she smiled softly. "You are always in control, and the beauty is that your true destiny is yours to decide."

"I do hope you are right," Evelyn sighed with relief. "It can all be so very confusing."

"In time, you will come to realize what we Seers already know. But first, you must let go of all of your self-doubt, regrets and stubbornness," Lailah insisted.

Evelyn shook her head. "I don't—"

"...and denial," Lailah added.

The two broke out into laughter so soft, it dare not escape the four walls of the room.

"I will do my very best to trust in your sage advice," Evelyn vowed.

"Wonderful," Lailah replied with delight. "Then I must ask you one very important thing," her voice dropped back into a solemn tone.

"Of course."

"You must promise me that you will not attempt to use your Will for healing again until you are properly trained. Without honing such an ability, you are at tremendous risk while channeling life into the dying, or even mending the injuries of the wounded."

"I don't understand." Evelyn shrugged her shoulders. "Why are you so against me using what you've taught me?"

"It is not that, at all. You must trust me on this. Just as you have had to make difficult choices that could have cost lives, I had to do the same. It was a calculated risk to show you how to channel your Will into healing. Most Heroes, even those exceptionally adept with Will, can never heal. They would either fail or die trying. I sensed something different in you and went with my instincts."

"And you were _right_ ," Evelyn responded. "I did it without failing or dying. What is so wrong with that?"

"Because now you are in danger. You can not save everyone. I know this, but I am not convinced that _you_ do yet. Until you can accept and embrace this truth, I will be unable to teach you more. And until you have honed your healing skills, you will continue to endanger yourself if you try to use them."

"You are basically telling me that either way, I am doomed."

"Not exactly," Lailah replied. "I am asking you to have patience. Take the time that you need to truly embrace the fact that you can _not_ save everyone. Only then can you train in the proper mindset. Until then, you must give me your word that you will not try."

Evelyn scanned the other woman's eyes, finding them full of austerity and insistence. With that, she nodded in agreement.

Relief washed over Lailah's face. "Good," she said. She glanced over to a clock that was seemingly frozen in a different time, and then shifted her gaze to the window. "It will be light very soon. You should rest."

"We _both_ should," Evelyn replied, standing and then giving her hand to the other woman to help her up.

Lailah rose and gave Evelyn's hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for speaking with me tonight."

"I should be thanking _you_ ," the Queen replied. "Good night, Lailah."

"Good night," she replied, bowing her head before quietly exiting the room.

Evelyn tucked Sparrow's note back into her shirt, close to her heart. She turned to take one last look around the room, trying to imagine how it looked when last her mother was here. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was so very much that she just didn't know, and now she was determined to find out the truth.

She gently swayed with fatigue as she made her way back down the hall to the bedroom where Ben was sleeping. Once inside, she gingerly tucked her mother's note deep into her pack before sliding into bed next to her husband, trying her best not to rouse him.

Between the grunts and snorts of his snoring, Ben mumbled, "Aurora…" before throwing his arm around Evelyn's waist and pulling her closer.

Before she could even begin to wonder what he'd been dreaming, she had drifted off into a deep slumber of her own.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : **I'm not quite sure where even to begin here, but I suppose a colossal _thank you_ to everyone who has stuck by me through the years should go first and foremost! When I began this sequel story, I was in a much different place in life. I had the fortune of much more time and better life circumstances to facilitate writing and updating. Between the last update and now, life has dragged me through the deaths of three beloved family members (one of which was my dog), one abusive relationship, two surgeries (and even more health issues), the flooding of my home, and the heartbreak of yet another relationship ending. I'm sorry I could not update sooner, but between all of the loss and pain and having to keep a full time schedule at my day job so I could afford to survive, I could never find myself in the mood or mindset to write. This chapter was a huge hurdle, as I had started it years ago. Trying to pick up where I'd left off in a whole other stage of life was pretty difficult, but I think I got through it as best I could and now I look forward to finishing this story the way I had always planned. Thank you all for sticking with me, and to my new readers: thank you for coming aboard! Last, but certainly not least, thank you to kiltsaresexy a.k.a. my dear friend Angela for beta reading this chapter!**

**As always (but especially now), reviews mean the world to me. Whether you are leaving constructive criticism or general feedback about how my story makes you feel, I appreciate it all from the bottom of my heart, and it really makes my day when I get a notification that a new review has been left.**


	11. Between Realms

Evelyn squinted tightly as the blinding desert sun beamed through a small opening in the curtains. She’d functioned on less sleep before, but on this morning, she felt particularly depleted. She rolled over to face her husband, still deep in his slumber, and managed a half smile before pulling a pillow over her head to block the light. In her haste, she accidentally pelted him in the face with goose-down.   
  
“Well, good morning to you, too, love,” he rasped, lifting the pillow from both their heads and kissing her on the cheek.   
  
Evelyn cupped her eyes with her hands, grumbling, “ _Ugh_ , I feel as if the Void itself has consumed me and spat me back out.”   
  
“I’m sure you’ll feel much better once you’re back home,” he replied.   
  
Evelyn nodded as she uncovered her eyes and propped her head up into her hand. “We _all_ will,” she added. She and her companions had all been beaten-up, run-down, and drained of nearly all of their resources. She could never have predicted that this mission would have turned out as costly and difficult as it had.   
  
“What’s that?” Ben asked, gesturing towards a piece of paper inside the opening of her shirt.   
  
“ _Oh_ …” Evelyn reached inside her shirt and pulled out the folded note she’d found in Reaver’s study. She held it firmly, gazing at it, wondering whether or not she should share its contents before she could fully understand them, herself.   
  
“Evie.” Ben gently tipped her chin up with his finger, breaking her fixation on the letter. His eyes scanned hers inquisitively. “What is it?”

She exhaled slowly. “This letter was written by my mother,” she replied. “And honestly, Ben, I do not even begin to know what to make of it, no matter how many times I read it over.” She placed the folded note in his hand. “I’m not ready to tell anyone else about this... but I trust _you_.”

Ben nodded silently, his eyes filled with concern before shifting their focus down to read the note.  
  
Evelyn pushed herself up lazily into a sitting position, biting nervously on her lower lip as she watched Ben reading. She carefully observed for any reactions, as if they might give her some clue as to how _she_ should feel about the revelations within.   
  
“Well...” He huffed a breath of air as his eyes widened with amazement. Glancing back over at Evelyn, he asked, “How are you holding up after reading all of this, love?”   
  
“Honestly, I’m _freaking out_ , Ben.” She began wringing the covers between her hands. “And I’m _so_ fucking angry.”

“Can’t say that I blame you,” he replied, coaxing one of her hands into his. “Do you want to talk about it, or…”

“I don’t even know where to start.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and shot up with a sudden burst of energy. “My mother…” She began pacing and pointing. “The honest, benevolent, most _unselfish_ ruler…” Stopping in place, she began counting with her fingers while elaborating, “Had a husband _before_ marrying my father, the ‘ _Mad-King_ ’... knew about the darkness all along, yet decided to let her children inherit it,” she paused, utterly baffled. “And lest we forget her tawdry little affair with… _Reaver_.”

In an attempt to diffuse her riled up emotions a bit, Ben replied, “To be fair, we don’t really know if the affair was tawdry _or_ little. Reaver is not really one to go small on anything,” he chuckled, instantly regretting his attempt at humor the moment he saw Evelyn turn red.

“I know he’s your friend, Ben, but for the sake of what we have, I need you to have my back right now,” she insisted.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He shimmied across the bed and stood up on her side, handing her back the opened letter. “You have every right to be confused, upset… angry, even.” He fell silent a moment. “But once you’ve sorted through those feelings, hopefully you can feel gratitude.”

“Just _what_ in this letter is there for me to be grateful for?” Evelyn spat.

Ben thought back to a time, not so long ago, when he was overwhelmed with information regarding his true heritage. “Grateful to have your mother’s own words in your hands, perhaps,” he solemnly replied. “Ever since I made the choice to follow in my real father’s footsteps, I’ve had nothing but questions for him. Questions that will forever go unanswered.”

Evelyn could see the sadness in his eyes, and immediately regretted what she’d said.

“I’m not saying you aren’t entitled to your feelings, Evie.” Ben gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But you need to try and see things from more than just one angle.”

“I understand you, Ben,” she said. “I do.” She glanced down, tracing her fingers over her mother’s signature before folding the letter closed. “I just… wish I could understand all of _this_.”

“You will. Just give it time,” he reassured her. 

After washing up and getting dressed, Ben and Evelyn went downstairs to gather their things and rummage for some much needed items to resupply their packs with. Evelyn checked nearly every drawer, but had only located two healing phials.

“Well, let’s just hope no one’s Will becomes depleted,” she said, holding up the two potions. “This was all I could find.”

“No worries, love. I’ve had much better luck. Rather fun looting one of Reaver’s mansions when he’s not here to defend his property!” Ben strode in with a wide grin and a whole handful of Will potions, passing them to her before pulling two much more mysterious phials from his pocket. “Though I can’t say I’ve ever seen either of _these_ before.” He placed them in her hand.

Evelyn closely examined them, holding them up to the light to try and identify the contents of each. The first container was crudely constructed; the tube-shaped glass was evidently hand-blown with imperfections throughout. The second was lavishly adorned with golden accents and what appeared to be wings at the very top; the iridescent liquid inside reflected the light to an almost blinding degree. 

“I’ve not seen anything like them before, either,” she stated, holding up the first phial. “Though this one does have a label.” She squinted, trying to decipher the weathered scrawl. “Sssl—Slimming… _slimming_?”

“Really?” Ben chuckled. “I’ve seen potions like those in my travels. Can’t say I’ve known anyone foolish enough to purchase one. Though we are talking about quite possibly the world's vainest egomaniac. Just what _would_ he do if he contracted the ever-dreaded love handles?”

Evelyn burst into laughter. He did have a point, after all. While the potion was probably useless to them, it was certainly amusing to have found in Reaver’s possession. 

The sound of movement upstairs caught the attention of them both. “Shit. We must have woken them,” Evelyn sighed.

“Not to worry. We’ve gotta see to some arse-kicking now in order to rest up later,” Ben replied.

“I suppose,” she said, reluctantly. “I just worry so much more now. You have no idea what it feels like to tap into your Will to a degree you thought unthinkable and be left completely sapped.” She held up a cupped hand, summoning a small white orb with an expression of amazement. “I had no idea…” The orb glowed red and began to crackle. “That it could be bent with my intention…” She closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling before opening them to see that the orb now swirled with the same serene blue as her Will lines. “Or even that it could be channeled so deeply in order to heal wounds.” 

“Let us save that,” Lailah chimed in as she descended the staircase, interrupting Evelyn before she could go any further. “For when it is absolutely necessary.”

“Good morning, Lailah,” Evelyn greeted her with a smile. “I was just explaining to Ben that—”

“Your husband is a Hero,” Lailah interjected. “I am sure that he understands.”

Evelyn looked at Ben and then back at the healer, seemingly puzzled. “How did you know that? Did we tell her, Ben?”

“It does not matter,” Lailah replied. “I have the ability to see and sense heroic blood. King Bakari would use me for that very purpose.” Her tone changed as she spoke scathingly of the evil ruler. “He has always considered his greatest threat to be a Hero, and as such, he would force me to See all those in his service in order to sate his paranoia.”

“How did he discover that you are a Hero?” Evelyn asked.

“I do not consider myself one,” Lailah replied. “I am not a fighter, nor do I possess any great strength.”

“Psh! I saw you bleedin’ _resurrect_ someone back from the dead. That right there is as heroic as it gets,” Ben said.

“He’s right,” Evelyn agreed. “Not every Hero has the ability to tap into every discipline we learn. It doesn’t make them any less of one.” She playfully nudged Ben. “Take my husband here, whose marksmanship rivals that of Reaver, himself, but—”

“But I don’t glow all pretty and blue like _you_ when I get all charged up,” he finished, chuckling.

Lailah smiled at their exchange. “You are both correct.” She locked eyes with Evelyn before continuing on, “Though what you may not know is that the only Heroes who have been known to have mastered their Strength, Skill _and_ Will have been direct descendants of the Archon.” She drew in a breath. “As for me, I choose not to claim myself a Hero because…” her voice dropped. “Because Heroes _save_ people.”

“You saved _me_ ,” Omari insisted as he entered the room, much to everyone’s surprise.

Lailah turned around and smiled at the Prince, pleased to see that he had regained enough strength to walk. “That may be so, but not without the Queen’s help. And I _have_ failed many times before trying to achieve the same feat.” She paused for a moment, almost in disbelief that the man who had just died before her now stood upright, completely free from the darkness. “But enough about Heroes and magic,” she said, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. “We must get you out of Samarkand. Your brother will not relent until he has found you… _and_ me, now that he knows that I have betrayed him.”

“Right,” Ben chimed in. “Let’s get the hell out of here. That sick, twisted asshole surely has it coming, but not till we’ve come up with a proper plan of attack.”

“Agreed,” Evelyn said. “Bakari is bound to have his minions searching for us. We must find a safe way home, and soon. The docks are at least a day’s trek from here…”

“Can’t do that, love,” Ben said. “Even if we weren’t being hunted down, we don’t have the resources, not to mention our faces are now known.”

_CRACK!_

The loud noise startled all four of them, turning their attention to the front of the house, where it sounded like wood snapping.

Ben pressed the packed satchel into Lailah’s hands, urgently. “Take Omari downstairs and _hide_.”

Lailah’s face washed over with fear. “He’s here, isn’t he?” Her breathing quickened. “We’ll be trapped.”

“ _Go_ ,” Ben insisted. “Evie and I will find you. Just keep him safe.”

Omari shot Evelyn a glare of protest. “No. He is here for me, and I will not have you—”

Evelyn cut him off, yelling, “ _Now, Ari!_ ”

Lailah slung the pack over her shoulder and hooked her arm under Omari’s, setting off to find a way downstairs.

_CRACK! CRASH!!_

“Shit,” Ben cursed as the windows became breached. “Here we go.”

In an almost perfect unison, Ben and Evelyn stood back to back and drew their pistols. Just then, a battering ram crashed through the open window, taking nearly the entire wall with it.

“They have their way in,” she whispered. “But it’s a choke point. We’ve got this.”

Ben smiled. She was right. As long as the possessed, mindless followers of the King continued flowing into the same point of entry, he and his wife could easily lay waste to them all. “Well, then,” he replied. “Ladies first.”

Evelyn broke out of formation and tumble-salted toward the hole in the wall, down on one knee as she fired shots into the skulls of the invaders. Their blackened eyes and expressionless faces appeared the same in life as they did in death.

Ben strode in behind her, firing his weapon at any foe who managed to slip past the growing pile of Bakari’s freshly dispatched minions. The once dead-silent desert estate now sounded like a violent storm of gunshots, war cries and marching. “As soon as there’s a break, we need to get the hell out of here!” he shouted.

“There’s no end in sight!” she hollered back, wincing as her pistols began searing the skin on her palms. “They just keep coming!”

“Push them back, Evie. Push them and we’ll make our getaway!”

Evelyn knew she could use her Will to knock their enemies back, potentially stunning them long enough for them to get out of there, but Lailah had the pack with their only potions. If she overexerted herself, she could leave them both in a perilous position. She looked back at her husband, reluctantly.

Ben nodded at her. “You’ve got this. I know you do.”

“Hold them off,” she said, holstering both her Dragonstomper .48 and sidearm before holding her hands up to channel her Will. Crouching low, she summoned a force-push spell before discharging it right at the breach. 

Her spell was nearly invisible. The only evidence of its effect was the disturbance in the atmosphere around their enemies just before they became knocked down in quick succession. She stood up straight and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Ben grabbed her by the wrist and began sprinting toward the basement door. Evelyn kept up with him, despite nearly tripping over a large piece of fallen debris. 

As they rounded the hallway into the kitchen, Ben locked onto the doorway which would lead them underneath the estate. Just as soon as they made it through, they shut the door as inconspicuously as possible and found themselves wrapped in near-pitch darkness as a harsh chill jolted them both.  
  
Evelyn raised her hand to begin conjuring flame, but Ben pressed it back down to her side as he struck a match against the wall beside him. “Save your energy, Evie,” he whispered. “We’re not out of this yet.”

Evelyn nodded before crouching down to pick up a broken shard of wooden moulding, “Here,” she said, passing it to Ben.

“Perfect,” he replied, lighting the debris into a makeshift torch. It was sure to burn quickly, but time was not on their side, anyway. The two dashed down the stone staircase into a surprisingly deep cavern, not at all something you would think to find hiding beneath an estate. At the bottom, they spotted Lailah and Omari standing alongside a strange circular platform. The curved arm-like constructs reaching up from around the platform struck an odd sense of deja-vu with Evelyn.

As they all regrouped, Lailah gestured toward the structure. “It is a Cullis Gate,” she said, urgently, “I cannot be sure where it leads, but it anywhere will be safer than here.”

A Cullis Gate. _Of course_. Evelyn had seen something exactly like this in the Catacombs beneath the castle. “I had no idea any existed apart from the one in Bowerstone,” she said, pausing to look closely at the dark, cobweb-covered structure. “Though this one does not appear to be operational.”

“It must be activated,” Lailah replied with certainty as she stepped inside the circle and raised her hand. “You must all step back, just in case.”

“Let me help,” Evelyn insisted. “I have done this before. There is no need to—”

_BOOM!_

The ground beneath them shook as they heard what sounded like countless numbers of soldiers storming in from above.

As chunks of stone began falling all around them, the group scrambled to regain their balance around the Cullis Gate. Lailah reached down deep, her face fixed with agonizing concentration. “Hold them back!” she shouted through gritted teeth. “Just a moment longer!” Her hands glowed radiantly just before her entire body ignited with pure Will, the white light utterly blinding. 

Omari, still weakened from his trials, clung to one of the stone arms of the Cullis Gate to steady himself. Ben and Evelyn turned to face the entryway, weapons drawn. The cavern became fully illuminated by Lailah’s magic, and its great expanse was finally revealed. She shined like a beacon, highlighting their targets while blinding them at the same time.

They pumped bullet after bullet into the onslaught of enemies, only to find them coming in faster and in greater numbers than before. “We need to go, _now_!” Ben shouted.

“Al-most… there,” Lailah said, straining as her channeling nearly reached completion.

Just then, an enemy bullet surprised them all, nearly clipping Lailah before ricocheting off the Cullis Gate. They weren’t expecting them to have projectiles in a land where men lived and died by the blade, but she remained unshaken by the disturbance and maintained her focus.

Evelyn holstered her weapons and began channeling her will to push the intruders back in order to buy more time. She began to crouch low, but before she could complete her spell, another stray bullet hit her directly in the shoulder. “Ahh!” She cried out, grabbing her open wound in shock.

“Evie, _no_!” Ben screamed. 

“Now!” Lailah yelled. “Get inside!”

Omari threw himself onto the circular platform with every last bit of strength he had.

Evelyn’s eyes burned with rage as she clung to her wound—which, for now, needed to go unanswered— and turned to enter the Cullis Gate. Ben ran backwards behind her in an attempt to guard her from additional attacks.

_Pop!_

Evelyn suddenly felt the full force of Ben’s body crashing into her from behind, bringing them both to the ground. With a struggle, she flipped over only to find him half-hanging out of the Cullis Gate, unconscious with a gunshot wound to his chest. With Lailah just seconds from completing her spell, Evelyn threw her arms around his limp body and dragged him all the way up into the circle.

Just as Lailah released her Will, teleporting everyone inside, Evelyn let forth a scream that felt as if it shook the world. The freshly wounded muscles in her shoulder ripped and bled more profusely as she exerted them to pull Ben up, but moreover than that, he appeared to have taken a mortal wound from shielding her. She shut her eyes tightly and clung to him with her arms and legs, clasping herself around him as she felt them teleport through space.

In a matter of seconds, everything was dark and quiet again.   
  


* * *

  
**Author’s Note** : I know it has been quite some time, dear readers. Are you guys still out there? I apologize for the delay, but life has been rather chaotic. I can say with certainty, however, that due to what is going on in the world right now, I have had the time to devote to this and have been working hard to finish this story as I originally intended. I’ve missed this story, and writing, and hearing from my readers so very much. As always, reviews are so greatly appreciated, now more than ever (not to mention, a very good way to get faster updates as they spark motivation and inspiration for an author). Lastly, thank you so much for reading and continuing to read my story. Whether you are new or one of my old fanfic pals from back when I first started, I am truly grateful for your continued support. Be safe and stay healthy, everyone.  
  
On a side note: my apologies for the cliff-hanger. Rest assured the next chapter is nearly halfway done!  
  
Much love,  
Angela (aka Indie)


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